You Promised It Would Be Forever
by Ms-Figg
Summary: Severus and Hermione divorce after a tragic miscarriage. A year later, Voldemort wonders if the Potions master still cares for his exwife, who just happens to be Voldemort's prisoner. Foul play? SSHG, and a special someone for Ginny Weasley as well.
1. You Promised It Would Be Forever Part 1

**You Promised It Would Be Forever Part 1**

Twenty-five year old Hermione Granger finished her meal at the Three Broomsticks, put some galleons on the table, picked up her bag of take-home work from the Ministry and tiredly exited the inn. It had been a long day. The head of the Spells Department, Gregor Gregorian had written her up for departing from department procedure again. She had one more time to fuck up, and she was out of there.

The Spells Department was quite strict on experimentation without the proper paperwork and permissions, but it took them more than a week to sign a simple name on a dotted line. Hermione had come up with a way to improve the invisible shielding used by Aurors to protect themselves. Up to this point, when fighting, Aurors had to cast spells around their shields, which impeded their aim, making them less effective fighters. Hermione had found a way to make the shields one-way. They could keep hexes from coming in, but allow hexes out. The Aurors wouldn't have to fire around them.

Of course, such an important discovery couldn't be credited to Hermione as far as Gregorian and his tenured cronies were concerned. The witch would make them look bad by outperforming them. Hermione had already had the credit for six very good spells taken by the Department Head himself, who placed his name on the paperwork instead of hers, citing she was too low level for acknowledgement, and all work she did for the Ministry was meant for the credit of the Department as a whole…even though everyone else had their names on the spells they developed. Hermione was between a rock and a chasm. She needed this job.

She almost wished she had accepted the monthly alimony Severus offered her when she divorced him. It would have come in handy now. She could have quit the Ministry job and took her time looking for new work. She thought she was being fair because he had given her the house. She didn't want half his assets or alimony. She had just wanted to be free.

She and Severus had been married for three years, and lovers for two. Hermione had turned up pregnant, and the Potions Master did the right thing and married her. Neither was ready for marriage, but a baby was coming, and a baby had to have a name. Severus purchased a house in Little Hangleton and acted the proper husband. Then, Hermione miscarried, losing the child when she was four months along. It was a son.

For months afterward Hermione had been almost inconsolable, and kept her husband at arm's length, which he began to resent. They began to fight and their sex life became non-existent. Hermione moved into a separate bedroom…and her husband returned to the cold, obnoxious bastard she had known throughout her years at Hogwarts. It was as if they had never loved each other. Then the emotional abuse began. Severus accused her of never loving him, and she sent it right back at him in spades, citing his long absences and accusing him of doing more than spying for the Order, that he was cheating on her, and even accusing him of making up his torture by the Dark Lord to cover his tracks. People often say hurtful things when they themselves are hurting

It was true they weren't having sex, but Severus wasn't involved with anyone else. He had simply reverted to living a sexless life. He was a proud man and not about to beg his unreasonable wife to come back to his bed.

They had argued one night so badly that Severus said, "I wish I had never married you, Hermione. Then I could just walk away from all this. And you. I am more miserable now than I have ever been in my life!"

Then he disapparated and was gone for days.

While he was gone, Hermione moved all his things into his private rooms at Hogwarts. She then went down to the Ministry and looked through their law books to find if there was a way to dissolve their wizarding marriage.

She found a law in an obscure book about the legal status of muggle-borns. It was one of those laws that should have been taken off the books, since it wasn't enforced anymore…but it was still a law. It stated that muggle-born witches and wizards were not "true" magical beings in that magical parents did not conceive them. As such, they were denied the rights and privileges of true wizards and witches. It went on to say that the children of a union between a muggle-born and a true witch or wizard WAS a magical being because it had magical parents.

It was a kind of Jim Crow Law, meant to hold muggle-born witches and wizards back. It was archaic, but Hermione used it as grounds to dissolve her marriage, saying as a muggle-born she couldn't be held to the rules of wizarding society. After much consideration and research by the Ministry Board, she was granted the right to divorce Severus. They took the law off the books shortly afterwards.

She served a stunned Severus with the papers and he signed them without incident, without a word really, then returned to Hogwarts a free man. Then his solicitor contacted her with Severus' interest in attempting a reconciliation, which she declined. Then came the offer of support…her taking the house, half his assets and monthly alimony. She was tempted to throw them all back in his face, but grudgingly accepted the house.

The divorce had become final over a year ago and Hermione rarely saw the Potions Master any more. Once in a blue moon she might see him in a bookshop, or at the Three Broomsticks. He would nod politely and go on his way…not that she wanted to talk to him anyway. He had made it quite clear he had felt trapped in his marriage to her and wanted to walk away. So she let him. And he could keep fucking walking.

Every night Hermione went home to an empty house, and wrapped herself around her books. She wasn't interested in pursuing another relationship. Severus had been her world, and when he left it, a large, aching hole remained. She didn't try to fill it with another wizard. It would be too painful. She had lost a husband and a son. She didn't think she could stand to take another shot at love and fail again. So she became a recluse. Even Harry and Ron couldn't draw her out, not that they had the time to focus on their friend as much as they would have liked, they both were married and had their own families to attend to.

Hermione slowly walked to the public apparation point, her bag hoisted over her should, passing the shuttered shops of Hogsmeade, the torch lights glittering softly as she passed. There weren't many people out tonight, and the streets felt empty and lonely. Suddenly Hermione felt the strange sensation of being watched again. She had been getting these feelings several times a week as she headed for home…but never this strongly. She turned and looked around, then drew out her wand. Maybe a masher was about. She walked faster to the apparation point on the corner. Damn, the torch was out. Hermione slowed.

The witch fired a spell at the lamp to try and relight it, but nothing happened. Shit. She had to go to that point to apparate. Hogsmeade had a citywide apparation block except at designated points because of all the accidents that occurred when people suddenly appeared out of nowhere. Plus the noise pollution. Public apparation points had strong silencing spells around them to cut down on the thunder cracks that followed the act.

The corner around the apparation point looked abnormally dark, as if no light at all could enter that area. Hermione's heart started pounding, but she didn't know why. She wasn't easily frightened. Being married to Severus had removed a lot of her fears. He could be quite frightening and she had gotten used to it. But she felt something was wrong.

"Lumos," she whispered, lighting her wand.

Hermione saw another figure further down the lane approaching the apparation point. It seemed to be a wizard walking briskly. She sighed with relief. At least someone else would be there. She'd feel safer. She hurried up to coincide with the wizard's approach. He passed into the dark area but she could still hear his footsteps. She arrived at the corner just as the wizard did. He looked at her, and nodded his head, not speaking. She couldn't make him out, but could just see his motion.

Hermione nodded back, smiling She was just about to apparate when the wizard leaped on her, grabbing her wand arm and pulling her tight against him.

"Good evening, Mrs. Snape…or should I say Miss Granger. You are no longer the property of the Potions Master," purred a voice that sounded familiar, but in her fright, Hermione couldn't focus on it.

"Who are you? Let me go!" she gasped

"I'm afraid I can't do that Miss Granger. I have my orders. Plus, holding you is proving to be quite arousing. You are very shapely," the wizard said, pulling her even tighter against him. Hermione could feel a hard, muscular body beneath the robes. Then she froze in horror as she felt the wizard hardening against her belly. "Quite shapely indeed. I can see why Severus fucked you for five years before discarding you."

Hermione struggled against him and suddenly felt strong hands around her throat, choking her. She dropped both her wand and her bag, clutching at the strong hands cutting off her air. Just as she started to see lights, the hands eased up and she was able to draw in a shuddering, painful breath.

"As you see, resistance can be painful, if not deadly Miss Granger," the wizard said, still holding her throat. "I suggest you cooperate. You have places to go and wizards to see."

Hermione slumped in defeat. She didn't doubt the wizard would kill her if she didn't cooperate. She felt the hands release her. Suddenly, Hermione kicked out, hitting the wizard in his leg and breaking into a desperate run. She didn't get far. A stunner hit her in the back, taking her down. She fell hard on the stone sidewalk. A nasty gash appeared on her forehead.

"Stupid little bitch," the wizard muttered, rubbing his shin for a moment before walking over to the unconscious witch and hoisting her up on his shoulder. They were in the light now, and the torches shone down on a rather handsome face.

The wizard pushed his long, blonde hair behind one ear, his gray eyes shifting to the witch on his shoulder as he ran a hand over her hip lasciviously.

"Pity the Dark Lord wants you, Miss Granger. I would have loved you to see my little 'playroom' at Malfoy Manor," Lucius Malfoy said, regret evident in his voice.

He disapparated.

Hermione's wand and bag lay abandoned on the street, waiting for discovery.

* * *

Severus was in bed in his private rooms when his mark began to burn. He woke up hissing and clasped his arm as the pain of Voldemort's summons hit him. Barely conscious, he rolled out of bed and automatically walked to the part of his bedroom wall that held the hidden panel which contained his deatheater robes. He opened it, quickly threw the robes on over his boxers, pulled on his socks and boots, then donned his half skull mask, raising his pointed hood. The Dark Lord rarely summoned him this late. It must be important.

Severus closed the panel and disapparated.

Voldemort sat on his throne impatiently, resplendent in violent robes interwoven with gold, waiting for his servant to appear. Several deatheaters lounged about the sparsely furnished throne room, talking as they leaned again the walls of the circular room. The walls were made of gray stone. They were splashed with crimson in places, evidence of violent entertainment. The Dark Lord liked the patterns of death and forbid the walls to be cleansed. It was a constant reminder of his power over the lives and deaths of others. Voldemort kept nothing for his deatheaters comfort…not even chairs. They had to stand in his presence. Only during the revels did he provide items of comfort such as chairs, mattresses and sofas. Otherwise only he would be comfortable in his domain.

The dark wizard drummed his long, thin fingers on the side of the throne impatiently. He couldn't wait to see Severus' face when he saw the gift his Lord had procured for him. The Potions Master had not been himself over the last few months. Voldemort had hoped he would recover quickly from the dissolution of that farce of a marriage to the mudblood witch. He had hoped that Severus would come around and regain his fierceness. But he hadn't.

One of the Dark Lord's greatest pleasures was pitting his deatheaters against each other in battle. He fought them for his pleasure like insensitive owners fought dogs. Severus had been his most vicious fighter, particularly in the months before his divorce. He had so much pent up rage that he beat every opponent brutally, having to be crucio'd in order to keep from killing them with his bare hands. The mudblood had been good for keeping the wizard savage and on edge. Severus spent days at a time in the makeshift arena, taking on deatheater after deatheater, always hungry for more blood.

But when they separated, it was as if Severus had lost his will for battle. He lost to deatheaters he should have easily beaten, and as a result lost the respect many had for him. The Potions Master let comments slip off his back he would have broken a man's neck for a year earlier. Severus was valuable to the Dark Lord as a spy and hadn't lost his usefulness there, but the Dark Lord wanted his gladiator back. Maybe if he had something to fight for…

Severus appeared before the throne with a crack of thunder and dropped to one knee in deference to his Lord.

"I am here, my Lord," he said, head bowed.

"Arise Severus, remove your hood and mask, then approach the throne," Voldemort lisped in his high-pitched voice.

Severus did as the Dark Lord asked, lowering his hood and pulling off his mask, sticking it in his pocket. He looked a bit gaunter now than he did a year ago. He approached the throne, his black eyes on the floor. Voldemort extended his ring, and Severus took his cold, thin hand in his and kissed the black onyx stone.

"Thank you, my Lord," he said, stepping back.

"You may look at me, Severus. I have something for you," Voldemort lisped, his red eyes glittering with excitement. "A gift that I hope you will appreciate."

The Dark Lord clapped his hands together sharply.

A door to the right of them opened and Peter Pettigrew walked quickly into the room. Well, as quickly as he could considering he was yanking Hermione along by her long, curly hair. He walked up to the throne and flung the witch to the floor. Voldemort had healed her head wound, and crucio'd Lucius for being so careless, but dried blood was still on her face. She was shuddering a bit, having been crucio'd also for demanding to know why she had been brought there. The witch had heart, that was for certain. Few screamed at the Dark Lord and lived.

Severus looked down at his ex-wife rather coldly. The deatheaters that had been quietly conversating among themselves began to amble toward the throne, interested looks on their faces.

Hermione looked up at Severus, a trail of dried blood leading to her mouth visible. He looked at her without evidencing the slightest bit of emotion at her plight. He wasn't going to help her. Severus looked up at the Dark Lord, who frowned at him.

"Well, aren't you pleased, Severus? You have the witch in your power now. You can keep her here to use for your pleasure and regain your will to fight. You've been pining. I brought her to you so you can relieve yourself or wreak vengeance. She did dissolve your marriage after all, and despite it's legality…it is a point of shame to be thrown aside by a witch. I should think you'd want to punish her or at least fuck her again," Voldemort said with irritation in his voice.

Severus looked at the witch on the floor consideringly.

"I don't want her," he said flatly.

"Don't want her, Severus? Why?" the Dark Lord asked him. "She looks like a perfectly good bit of trim to me."

"Because she's a selfish, whining, frigid little bitch, that's why," he said bitterly.

Hermione looked at him with wide eyes, then they narrowed.

"And you're an insufferable, heartless, lying, cheating bastard," she shot back at him…her eyes glittering.

Voldemort's eyebrows rose at Hermione's insolence. Surely Severus wasn't going to let her get away with that, especially in front of him. The witch deserved a beating.

But the Potions Master did nothing but look at her for a moment, then he looked at the Dark Lord.

"You can see why I don't want her. Send her back, my Lord," he said to his Master. "I have no use for her. I'd rather masturbate than go near her."

On hearing this, one of the wizards watching, MacNair, stepped forward quickly. He dropped to one knee, waiting for Voldemort to acknowledge him.

"Yes MacNair?" the Dark Lord asked him. "You may look at me and speak."

"Begging your pardon, my Lord, but if Severus doesn't want her…can we have her?" he asked Voldemort. His rheumy eyes slid over the witch. She had quite a few curves under that robe, and if she fucked the Potions Master…she was probably tough sexually. They could get a lot of use out of her…maybe keep her as a plaything.

Hermione paled as the wizard's eyes swept over her hotly. It was quite plain what they wanted to do to her. She looked at Severus again. He hadn't reacted at all.

Voldemort considered Severus. Cold as he looked, the Dark Lord didn't believe he had lost all feeling for the witch. Not the way he had been getting his ass kicked the past few months.

"Yes, MacNair. Since Severus doesn't want her, you can have her. Here," the Dark Lord said, carelessly flicking his wand and a huge mattress appearing next to the far wall. "Go fuck her or whatever it is you want to do."

Hermione screamed as MacNair lunged at her, grabbing her by the arm and yanking her against his body. The wizard was huge. At least six foot seven. Several of his teeth were missing, courtesy of Severus in his heyday. He gathered her small body against him.

"Ooh, I'm going to love ramming you, little witch," he rasped, lifting her up against him as she beat against his chest and kicked her legs frantically.

"May I go, my Lord?" Severus asked as his ex-wife screamed.

Voldemort looked at him, disappointment in his crimson orbs. His snake tongue flicked out. Guess it didn't work after all.

"Yes, Severus. You are free to go," he said.

The Potions Master turned and started to walk a distance from the throne to disapparate. No one was to do it within fifteen feet of the Dark Lord for some reason. Probably because the dark wizard found it disrespectful.

"You bit me…you little bitch!" MacNair snarled.

Severus heard a slap, and a scream, then another slap as the wizard began to punish his ex-wife.

"You think I'm like your ex-husband, witch? You think I'll let you get away with disrespecting me? I'll teach you how to talk properly to a wizard," MacNair raved, another slap sounding as Hermione cried out

Severus halted and scowled, his head down.

Suddenly he turned and walked back toward the throne.

"I'll take her my Lord," he said to Voldemort, whose eyes lit up.

MacNair stopped slapping the witch and let her slide down his body to the floor. He held her firmly by one arm as she gasped. Hermione's face was badly bruised on both sides. MacNair had big hands.

Voldemort almost rubbed his hands together in glee. This was what he'd been waiting for.

"No! You already said you didn't want her Severus. The Dark Lord gave her to us!" MacNair said, frowning at him, holding Hermione's arm so tightly she was wincing.

"I'm afraid MacNair is right, Severus. I gave the witch to them for their pleasure. I am a wizard of my word, as you know."

Severus looked at MacNair and the other deatheaters. They were going to beat, rape and kill Hermione if he didn't do something. Why he should care, he didn't know. She had served him the divorce papers, clearly telling him with that act that she honestly didn't want his love or his protection. She had moved all his belongings to Hogwarts. She didn't want to even make an attempt at reconciliation. In essence, she had thrown him out. Out of his house and out of her life. Now she needed him.

"However…" Voldemort said, a nasty, lipless smile spread across his face, "you could fight for her, Severus."

He waved his hand at the five deatheaters.

"All of them. One at a time. If you win…she's yours. You'd have to keep her here, however. Are you willing to fight to keep her from them?" Voldemort asked the Potions Master, holding his breath.

Severus looked at the battered witch. Hermione was staring back at him, her amber eyes level and slightly swollen. But the witch didn't looking pleadingly at him. She looked resigned. She thought he was going to let her die and was steeling herself. MacNair was staring at him too, a leering look on his face. Severus had been getting his ass kicked by him all year. No way would the Potions Master be willing to fight him and four other deatheaters. He was as good as stuffed in the witch right now.

"I will fight them," Severus said quietly.

Voldemort clapped his hands together like a happy child.

"Excsssssssssellent!" he cried, his excitement causing him to hiss. "Wormtail!"

Peter Pettigrew appeared like magic.

"Take the witch and put her in one of the back rooms. Ward the door and don't touch her. She's the 'prize.' If you want to fuck her, then you have to fight too."

Peter wouldn't mind fucking Hermione…he had already felt her up when he brought her unconscious to the room the first time, after the Dark Lord healed her cut. But he looked at Severus. He had been getting the shit kicked out of him lately, but Peter doubted he could beat the wizard.

"No my Lord. I'll just put her in the room," he said, walking up to MacNair and trying to take Hermione.

The big wizard didn't want to let her go.

"Crucio!" Voldemort said, hitting MacNair with the Cruciatus curse with next to no concern. The wizard released Hermione as he seized up and shuddered in agony. Peter led Hermione away holding her arm firmly, half dragging her in the process. They disappeared through the same door they came out of.

Voldemort released MacNair, who fell to the floor writhing. The Dark Lord looked at the Potions Master.

"Since you are going to fight so many wizards, Severus, it is only fair I give you the choice of order," he said.

Severus looked at the deatheaters consideringly. They all looked confident, except MacNair who was just starting to recover from his spasms. It would be wise to fight him while in this weakened state.

"First MacNair," he said, "Then Travis, McQuire, Aslund and last, Weasley.

Percy Weasley stared at the Potions Master appraisingly, his brown eyes looking him over. The Potions Master would be weak by the time he got to him. He might be able to beat him. He'd wanted to fuck Hermione since she was a fourth year, but he never got a chance to approach her because of his idiot brother and Harry fucking Potter. Better late than never.

Voldemort was looking at the four men too. He thought Severus had wisely placed them. Weasley was the least dangerous without a wand. They would be going toe-to-toe, barehanded, the round over when one was incapacitated, or could not win.

"Very well, Severus, you may prepare yourself," the dark wizard said.

A bench appeared against a side wall, and Severus walked over to it, unfastening his robes as he walked. He was doing it again. Risking his life for the ungrateful little witch…well not his life, yet a good beating. He was tortured severely for choosing to marry her. The Dark Lord had been very displeased. Fucking her was one thing, but marrying a mudblood? Severus paid for the right to bed Hermione with his blood. And she divorced him. Now here he was again, ready to lose more blood over her and she wasn't even his anymore.

Severus peeled off his robes. He only had on boxers beneath it. He toed off his boots and pulled off his socks, rolling them up and stuffing them inside his robes pocket.

The Potions Master stood up and began stretching and flexing, tossing his head quickly side to side, then bulking up, cracking his neck and back.

Voldemort looked at MacNair, who was still on the floor gasping.

"MacNair, get up!" Voldemort hissed at him, "You've got a fight with Severus in less than ten minutes. Snap out of it or he's going to beat you senseless."

MacNair slowly stood and gathered enough of his senses about him to reply to his Master.

"Begging your pardon my Lord, but I've been beating Severus like a child all year," the wizard breathed, his chest heaving. He still shuddered slightly.

Voldemort narrowed his eyes at him.

"That was then, MacNair. This time he has something to fight for," the Dark Lord replied, looking over at the Potions Master's lean, muscular form as he stretched and bounced about, throwing blows and kicks.

"Something I will take away from him again and again."

* * *

Hermione was taken to a room, pushed in roughly by Peter and the door slammed and locked behind her. Room? Cell was more like it. A filthy cell. The room was about ten feet by six feet, the walls made of gray stone. There was a twin-sized bed with stained sheets, a scratchy wool blanket, an absolutely disgusting loo, unflushed, and a small water stained basin set in the wall.

Hermione took her foot and grimacing, chucked the handle of the loo until she could catch it under her trainer and flushed it. The shit went down but the bowl was still smelly and disgusting. She pulled the stained sheets off the twin mattress and noticed the stains went all the way through. Gingerly she flipped the mattress over. The other side was a little better, but not by much. She caught the sheet in such a way that she could fold it over and arrange it so the unstained edges would come in contact with her body. Then she sat on the bed, listening to nothing at all.

Severus had almost left her to the deatheaters. He fully intended to. She could see it in his eyes, those cold, soulless eyes as he looked at her crumpled on the floor before the Dark Lord's throne. Her ex-husband looked at her as if she were a piece of cast-off parchment. There wasn't hate in his eyes, just total disregard as if he didn't care if she lived or died.

When the Potions Master told the Dark Lord that he didn't want her, it sort of stung. Not that she loved him anymore…she didn't. He had effectively killed that love when he told her he wished he had never married her and she made him more miserable than he had ever been in his life. And Severus Snape had been in some miserable situations. He still was actually. That Severus considered his marriage to her worse than anything else he had ever lived through had stunned and hurt Hermione beyond her ability to cope. All she could think of was getting the dark wizard out of her life and letting him return to his lesser miseries.

And tonight, he had actually called her a bitch. Even when they were fighting at their worst, he had never called her that. He called her a number of other hurtful names such as stupid, selfish, a silly chit, even frigid, but never a bitch. It must have been what he was thinking the entire time though.

Hermione had no such restraint with her language. She cursed Severus loud and long when she was angry with him, peppering him with muggle phrases and obscenities he barely understood. Her language had been far more abusive than his toward the end of their marriage. After the death of her son, things just went all downhill…her grief was horrible. Even now she felt that empty ache of a missing child. She also felt something else. Fear.

She was a muggle-born in the Dark Lord's stronghold. A prisoner. Severus was fighting for her life for whatever reasons he had. Probably pity. He might still be capable of that if nothing else. She remembered how one night they had walked past Knockturn alley, and a small weredog was howling with pain. Severus paused, then suddenly turned and sought the animal out. He found several children tormenting the poor beast. The weredog was crying in a corner with nowhere to go and the children were hitting it with blasts of heat from their wands.

"Leave that animal alone!" Severus bellowed at them.

Terrified by the pale, angry wizard, the children all scattered and the weredog slunk away. Severus watched it go, scowling, his lips pressed tightly together. He wasn't so moved by pity as to take the tortured animal in, but he would not see it tormented. Maybe that was how he viewed her. Like a broken dog that needed a break.

But there were so many wizards to fight and that goon MacNair was huge. Hermione didn't know if her ex-husband could take him, or if he did, if he would have enough strength left to take the rest of them. If Severus didn't beat all of them, she would be given to the wizards, who she had no doubt after MacNair's raging when she bit him, would rape her repeatedly, then most likely kill her.

Percy Weasley was one of them.

Hermione's brow furrowed. Percy had always been different than the rest of his down-to-earth family. In school he was proud and ambitious, always bragging on his accomplishments and talking down to his brothers and sister. He acted as if he wanted no one to know he was a Weasley, but his red hair and family resemblance gave him away every time. He had even taken the Ministry's side when Harry tried to reveal that Voldemort was back, turning his back completely on his family. Things had never been right between them since.

During the holidays, his empty chair was a glaring testament to his abandonment. Molly Weasley would look at it wet-eyed as she served the rest of her family. This pissed George and Fred off, and after every holiday there was some uproar between them and their brother requiring the assistance of Aurors to break up. It actually figured Percy would end up a servant of the Dark Lord. He was a pureblood who thought he was better than most everyone else. Pride goeth before the fall into darkness, and the wizard had tumbled in. Now under the protection and evil influence of Voldemort, Percy was ready and willing to rape her. The lust in his eyes was just as leering and hungry as in the others.

Hermione hoped the memory of Percy's lust remained just that, a memory. The alternative was too horrible.

* * *

When Severus approached MacNair, he wasted no time. The giant wizard stared at him in a demeaning manner.

"Ready to get your ass kicked again, eh Severus? This time I'm going to make YOU swallow some teeth. Then I'm going to rape your ex-wife until there's blood on my tool. Bet you never did that to her, did you?" MacNair sneered at the pale wizard.

"No, I prefer my blood on my hands," Severus replied, moving like lightning and hitting MacNair in the jaw with an uppercut so powerful it lifted him off his feet, the impact breaking several more teeth and knocking the wizard out cold.

Severus stood over the fallen deatheater, wishing he had his boots on so he could stomp his face, but satisfied himself with beating him mercilessly with his fists until his hands were indeed covered in blood. Voldemort stopped him. Severus listened. He had for more wizards to fight and didn't want to be hit with the curse. It would weaken him.

"Enough Severus," the Dark Lord hissed, extremely pleased. Now that was the Severus he remembered, the one who dispatched his opponents quickly with an economy of moves.

Severus stood up and gave the unconscious deatheater a hard kick in the ribs before he backed away, his pale chest heaving, and bloody hands flexing. That had been satisfying. As Peter Pettigrew struggled to drag the heavy wizard off to the side, Voldemort looked at the remaining deatheaters. None of them looked as confident as before. MacNair had done nothing to tire the Potions Master out. The Dark Lord's eyes slid toward Severus.

"Are you ready to meet your next opponent?" Voldemort asked him.

Severus wiped his hair out of his eyes, and looked toward Philoneus Travis.

"Yes my Lord," he said evenly, eyeing the short, stout wizard evenly.

Travis was built like a bulldog. He had a low center of gravity, rounded, but strong. No doubt the wizard would try to wrestle the Potions Master, because on the ground he might have the advantage. Severus couldn't let him take him down. He didn't doubt he could beat the stout deatheater, but he didn't want any major injuries in the process. Most likely, the wizard would feint, then charge him. He'd be ready. He could disable him in three moves if he got it right.

Travis walked out into the middle of the throne room. He was bare-chested and barefoot. He had breasts, and a rounded beer belly…but it was solid, not flab. Travis didn't attempt to taunt the wizard, as MacNair had. There wasn't any need for idle words. He just needed to get the wizard down and overpower him. Snape was fast, but getting him down would level the playing field.

Travis leaned, swinging his body back and forth, feinting charges at the Potions Master, who pretended to jump warily. This increased Travis' confidence…his opponent seemed anxious to stay out of his path. Travis inched closer.

Suddenly the wizard charged Severus, who stood still as if caught by surprise. At the last minute, just as Travis extended his arms to grasp the taller wizard around the waist, Severus spun with all the skill of a matador dodging a charging bull, kicking Travis in the ass as he passed, stumbling and plunging to the stone floor hard. That was one move.

Severus quickly leapt on the wizard's back, straddling him. That was move two.

The Potions Master gripped the wizard's arms by the wrists, forcing them upward, then using his strength and body weight, forced them forward, the wizard screaming as Severus dislocated both his shoulders at the same time. That was move number three.

Travis' arms fell limp and useless to the floor as he bellowed in pain. Luckily, Severus didn't feel the urge to punish this wizard as much as he had MacNair. But still he needed to learn respect, so Severus settled for a couple of brutal kicks in the ribs before he stepped away from him.

"Marvelous Severus, simple marvelous!" the Dark Lord exclaimed as Peter thoughtlessly grabbed Travis by one of his useless arms and dragged him to the side, clearing the way for the next opponent.

MacNair was just regaining consciousness, gumming his bloody mouth as his head cleared. His entire face was swollen horribly, his nose practically crushed to jelly, and his eyes mere slits surrounded by raw, red meat. He had lost a couple more teeth too. Severus had regained his respect.

"Severus, you have the hunger I coveted a year ago," Voldemort gushed at the wizard, thoroughly stoked that his servant seemed to have regained his deadly skills. "You've always been my most prized fighter. I am pleased to see you kicking ass again."

Severus bowed toward the Dark Lord.

"Thank you my Lord," he said.

The Potions Master had to admit he felt back in his element. The satisfying crunch of MacNair's jaw, and the snap of Travis' shoulders made him feel almost whole. Almost. There was still a part lacking, a hole in his soul that couldn't be filled by violence, no matter how gratifying. Severus fought back that familiar feeling of emptiness and focused on his next opponent.

McQuire.

The tall, thin wizard entered the ring, looking for all the world as if he were walking to the gallows. He had seen Severus' previous performance and knew he could not defeat the wizard. He was of the mind to charge him and just be taken out. It seemed the most expedient method to end this. Luscious as the witch was, she wasn't worth broken bones.

Severus saw the fear in McQuire's eyes. He would be an easy defeat. Sure enough the wizard charged at him recklessly, and Severus hit him three times in the face with a right-left-right cross combination and taking him down with a blow to his solar plexus. The wizard wasn't unconscious, but lay there…unwilling to fight any further. Severus looked down on him in disdain and stepped away from him.

"You concede, McQuire?" Voldemort asked, his red eyes leveled on the fallen wizard. He had gone down too soon without making any attempt to fight. This displeased Voldemort.

"Yes my Lord," McQuire gasped.

If the wizard thought his early concession would spare him pain, he was wrong. Voldemort leveled his wand at him and cast the Cruciatus curse on him a full three minutes, causing the wizard to shit and piss on himself as he writhed in agony, his eyes rolling up into his head with pain. When the Dark Lord released him, he continued to convulse horribly, his lips pulled away from his teeth, his tongue lashing uncontrollable as he gnashed down on it, blood streaming from his mouth. Peter dragged him away, still seizuring.

Aslund was next. He was tall, muscular and fast. He didn't think he could beat Severus, but he'd be damned if the Potions Master took him out as easily as his fellow deatheaters. He stood before Severus, his blue eyes studying him for a moment before he lunged, throwing vicious powerful kicks and blows.

Severus blocked his attack, returning blow for blow but unable to get through. Aslund caught him with a right, then left cross, staggering Severus back. He leaped on the dazed wizard and took him down, but Severus rolled him over and began pummeling him in the face, seeking to beat him so badly he'd be too disoriented to fight back. But Aslund was tough and managed to buck his hips enough to throw the Potions Master off him, and managed to get a few blows of his own in on the Potions Master's face, breaking his nose in the process before Severus wrested away and leaped to his feet.

The Potions Master grabbed his nose. His hand was filled with his own blood. He looked up at Aslund, who paled at the murderous look in his opponent's eyes before Severus threw himself on the wizard and began tearing into him, connecting with his face over and over, driving him back towards the wall, following him, his sharp knuckles turning the man's face to jelly. Aslund slumped against the wall, and Severus continued to beat him, not hearing the Dark Lord's command to stop. Suddenly pain hit him.

The curse.

Voldemort held his wand on Severus for a few seconds as Aslund slid down the wall, unable to continue. The Potions Master was held up by the curse…shuddering, his teeth gnashing. Voldemort let him go after ten seconds or so. Severus had just returned to full form…the Dark Lord had no desire to break him again…not when he was back at the top of his game. And Voldemort knew why…Severus' rage had been re-ignited by the presence of the mudblood. All the painful memories had come flooding back and he released them the best way he knew how…violence. Beautiful, glorious violence.

Percy Weasley stared at the Potions Master in horror. He was not as broken as he had hoped. Percy, for all his airs of grandeur…was a coward when it came to fighting wandlessly. He did not want to fight Severus and ran toward the Dark Lord, dropping quickly on one knee, begging to be heard.

"Yes Percy?" the Dark Lord lisped, his red eyes washing over the slender red-haired wizard.

"I do not wish to fight, my Lord. I withdraw," Percy said, his voice quavering, "I cannot hope to defeat Severus, my Lord. Forgive me for not being the fighter you wish."

Voldemort looked down at the trembling young wizard speculatively. He would not avoid the pain. There were other ways of torture that were, in the Dark Lord's estimation, much more pleasant.

"Very well, Percy. I will not force you to fight Severus. Instead, you will visit me. Do you understand?" the Dark Lord said, his voice filled with expectancy.

"Yes my Lord. Thank you my Lord," Percy responded, shaking with relief.

Recovering quickly from the short blast of the curse, Severus' nostrils flared in disgust. The wizard would rather Voldemort shove his snaky wand up his ass than fight like a man. From what the Potions Master had heard about the Dark Lord's sexual preferences, Percy would have done better to take the beating.

The Dark Lord dismissed Percy then looked at Severus.

"You have made an excellent showing, Severus. I am most pleased. Most pleased. Your ex-wife is currently yours."

Severus noted the Dark Lord's use of "currently". Hermione was still in danger.

"The mudblood will remain with us, Severus. I know you are estranged from her, and have no desire to resume a 'personal' relationship. However, she will remain here simply because I know if you were to take her from my domain, you would release her back to her life, and continue to pine. That will not happen. It seems she is the key to your aggression. I haven't yet decided what role she will play while she is with us…or if she will continue to live…but for the time being, Severus, she is within your care. You are responsible for her."

Severus nodded.

"Yes my Lord," he intoned.

"If the witch acts out of order, Severus, she will be subject to the same tortures as anyone else in my realm. Including the scourge. Tell her to be obedient or there will be repercussions."

"Yes, my Lord," Severus replied. "I suppose I should go inform her that she is safe, for now."

The Dark Lord studied him.

"If you wish," the Dark Lord said. Then he added, "Severus, keep this in mind. Although she is your responsibility, she is within my domain and subject to my will like any other. She may be required to perform 'other' duties. I just wanted to make you aware of that."

Severus looked up at Voldemort. He had expected that much. Hermione might find herself having to pleasure the Dark Lord, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. If she had remained married to him, she could have avoided this. Their bond had offered her a protection. Voldemort rarely fucked witches that were legally married to his deatheaters himself. It was a quirk of his, though he enjoyed witnessing the defilement of the sacrament of marriage at his revels…where deatheaters fucked each other with impunity.

"I understand, my Lord," Severus replied.

Voldemort eyed him.

"I hope Severus, that this return to manhood in my arena signals a return to manhood in other areas. That witch needs a lesson. She has mistreated you in the eyes of the wizarding public and your peers. You must regain your respect. You must make her pay," Voldemort said to the Potions Master.

"My Lord, I mean no disrespect. Give me leave to be candid," Severus requested.

Voldemort nodded.

"It was only momentary weakness that made me deliver Hermione from my brothers tonight. If I made her perform some sexual act as my reward, she would think I still want her. I'd rather not go through that, my Lord. As I said, I would rather masturbate than touch her again, even though I have fought for her. And as much as she deserves it, I cannot bring myself to beat her."

Voldemort nodded, though he wished the Potions Master showed more callousness than he did toward the witch. The mudblood deserved a beating. She had divorced him and was insolent. She was a woman that needed to be broken. Perhaps he would take her punishment upon himself at a future time.

The Dark Lord looked at the pale, wizard before him.

"I understand Severus. Yet, until I decide what to do with her…she is under your protection. Whether or not you decide to extend that protection is up to you. Once my deatheaters find out there is a female mudblood in our midst…they will want her. I leave it up to you whether or not they will have her."

"Yes my Lord," Severus responded. Voldemort looked at him appraisingly.

"You have not yet partaken of either our available females here or the Revels," the Dark Lord said, "You may not want your ex-wife but surely you must feel the need to plunge yourself in a soft, wet orifice. You are divorced, not dead Severus. There are many among our witches who would be honored to fuck you, particularly since your abilities have been restored. You should think about it. It would be most pleasurable after such a long, self-imposed dry spell."

"Yes my Lord," Severus responded.

Yes, there were female deatheaters available…but Severus wasn't interested in fucking them. Hermione had ruined him. Severus had become used to connection during sex. So much more had been involved in the act then just finding release with Hermione. Though he was often rough and dominating with the witch, he had loved her. It made all the difference at that time. Sex without connection was an empty act, and would only serve to make the hole Hermione used to occupy in his heart, larger.

Severus scowled. He hated thinking about any of this. He bowed to Voldemort.

"May I dress and take care of this, my Lord? I need to return to Hogwarts. I have classes in the morning," Severus said to the Dark Lord.

Voldemort flicked a long, thin finger at him.

"You may go, Severus," he replied.

"Thank you my Lord," Severus said, turning and walking back over to the bench.

The Potions Master donned his robes and put on his socks and boots. He then walked to the door Peter and Hermione had gone through, opened it and stepped inside, closing it behind him.

* * *

Hermione had sat in the foul little room for over an hour, her stomach tight when the doorknob jiggled and turned. She looked around for something to defend herself with, but there was nothing. She stood up, pulled up the mattress and climbed into the bed, standing up in the corner with the mattress held protectively in front of her. It only 'protected' her up to her waist, as it was lengthwise. Maybe she could push the mattress over on whoever came in, trapping them beneath it and scramble over it. But where would she go?

She instantly tried to apparate the moment she was thrown on the floor in front of Severus and Voldemort, but nothing happened. Apparently only those with the Mark could apparate in Voldemort's domain. The knob turned and the door swung open.

Severus entered, closing the door behind him. He looked at the witch standing on the bed with the mattress in front of her. The wizard looked awful. His nose was swollen and obviously broken, and dried blood flaked on his pale skin. His face was badly bruised and his hands had dried blood all over them as well.

"You think that will protect you?" he spat at her.

Hermione continued to stand there, looking at her ex-husband's ruined face. He had taken that for her, despite the fact she was no longer his wife or under his protection.

"You silly chit. Get down from there. If the deatheaters want to come for you, a mattress isn't going to stop them. They'll use it to rape you on," Severus said coldly.

He watched as Hermione climbed down from the bed. His black eyes swept over the filthy room. He pulled out his wand.

"Scourgify," the Potions Master said, cleaning the loo and the sink. He also cleaned the sheets and mattress, then put his wand away.

"You're safe for now," he said to the witch who used to be his wife. "I can't tell you for how long. You'd better use that brain of yours to come up with a way to be useful to the Dark Lord that doesn't involve a variety of cocks, or you're going to be on your back quite a bit. I will inform Albus you are here."

Severus turned and opened the door to leave.

"Where are you going?" Hermione asked rather desperately. She didn't want to stay here.

"Back to Hogwarts. I have to heal myself and get to bed. I have classes in the morning," he replied.

"But what about me?" Hermione asked him.

Severus looked at her.

"What about you? You're not my problem anymore, Hermione. I've already gotten my nose broken over you for no good reason. What else do you expect from me?" he asked her.

No good reason? She was about to be beaten, raped and killed by deatheaters. Wasn't that worth fighting for? Then she realized for Severus, it really wasn't. She wasn't his anymore.

Severus began to leave.

"Wait!" Hermione said.

Looking exasperated, Severus turned by to her. His nose was killing him. He wanted to get out of here.

"Why did you fight for me, Severus?" Hermione asked him.

The Potions Master looked at her for a long moment. An image of them making love when they were happy together popped into his head for an instant. He pushed it away.

"Temporary insanity," Severus replied coldly, exiting the room, closing the door and warding it behind him.

* * *

Hermione's wand and bag were found early the next morning by a shopkeeper on his way to open his store. He picked both items up and brought them into his place of business. He checked inside the bag and saw the paperwork for the Ministry. He contacted them by owl and two Aurors arrived to pick up both the bag and the wand. A quick examination showed both belonged to Hermione Granger, who hadn't shown up for work, which was quite odd, since the witch was punctual and responsible. If she needed a day off or were sick, she would have contacted her Department head.

Two Aurors were sent to her home in Little Hangelton. When they knocked several times and Hermione didn't answer, they let themselves in. She wasn't there but the wizards saw no sign of foul play. They checked her bedroom and found her bed hadn't been slept in.

They returned to the Ministry and reported Hermione could not be found. If the shopkeeper had found the bag alone, they might have assumed the witch lost it. But her wand also being found was quite ominous. No witch or wizard ever carelessly left his or her wand. It was suspected that Hermione Granger had come to harm. Still, they decided to wait another twenty-four hours before acting. She might turn up on her own. If not, they would begin an investigation, and her disappearance would become public knowledge.

At Hogwarts however, Hermione's disappearance was private knowledge.

Albus Dumbledore looked over his desk rather worriedly into the dispassionate eyes of Professor Severus Snape as he told the Headmaster of Hermione's capture and subsequent imprisonment in the Dark Lord's stronghold.

"Couldn't you have brought her out, Severus? Why does the Dark Lord want her?" Albus asked him.

"No. The Dark Lord wants her kept at the stronghold. He believes that her presence will keep me on edge enough to perform well in the arena. Since our divorce, I must admit I've been less than on point. Her presence did aggravate me enough to defeat four deatheaters I engaged to protect her from being killed. But I cannot continue to place myself in harm's way to protect her, Albus. She is not my responsibility. I cannot and I will not," Severus said evenly.

"But if you do not protect her, Severus, ultimately the deatheaters will use her and kill her," the Headmaster said softly.

Severus looked at the Headmaster for a moment, then all the bitterness he felt came pouring out of him in one great flood.

"Hermione divorced me, Albus! She promised our love would last forever, made me believe her, so I took the risk of loving her, then she ripped my heart out and crushed it under her heel. Hermione turned away from me, left my bed, became abusive, accused me of things I would never do, took me to the very end of my last nerve, then threw me out of my own house and divorced me."

"She would not attempt reconciliation, nor would she allow me to do right by her and provide support or give her money that, as far as I was concerned, she deserved, although she made my life miserable. She was my wife and the mother of my child, and she cut me out of her life. Now am I supposed to go running to help her? After what she did to me? To us? No. No, she chose to be free of me. Let her do the best she can on her own. "

Albus looked at Severus rather sadly.

"You know Severus…it was the loss of her child that was the cause of her turning away. She felt too much grief and couldn't cope with the loss. She needed comfort and understanding.

Severus scowled at the Headmaster.

"Her child? Her child? Albus, he was my child too. My son. My flesh and blood. I felt the loss just as powerfully as she did. I may not have carried him, but I felt him…his life…and his death. I needed her comfort and understanding just as much as she needed mine. But what did she do, Albus? She destroyed everything. Closed me out and started ripping at the fabric of our love until it was shredded. I held on to the hope it could be repaired, but she became worse and worse, driving me to the point of almost striking her she was so mentally abusive. She told me she hated me more times than I can count. Yes, I said some things I shouldn't have, but so did she. She had my love and my protection once, and she flung it away. I have nothing invested in her now. Her predicament is her own problem," Severus said blackly.

Albus looked at the dark wizard, tapping his fingertips together lightly before he responded.

"Is it really, Severus? Have you even considered that the Dark Lord never would have taken Hermione if it weren't for you? That if she dies, it will be because you once loved her? It will be because she once loved you? If they rape and maim her, it will be because once you both shared something beautiful. If you had never taken her in the first place, Severus, Hermione would be at her job right now. Safe."

Severus blinked at the old wizard, not knowing what to say in the face of this glaring truth. In his bitterness at her divorcing him, he didn't see the bigger picture. All he saw was the witch he was formerly involved with in a hard situation, a witch who had threw him over and refused to accept his love and protection any longer. By divorcing him, she had also made him a public spectacle. Divorce among wizards and witches was next to unheard of. That he had lost a witch he was supposed to be bound to until death was a matter of great shame. And he was a proud man. He hated the whispers he would hear when he passed others. Most comments were along the lines of the following.

_"There goes that divorced wizard. A muggle-born witch married him, then threw him over. He was a fool anyway and got what he deserved. He should have married one of his own."_

Yet despite the mental and emotional trauma he had gone through because of Hermione, and the coldness he felt toward her now…Albus was right. It was because of him she was in Voldemort's cold, scaly clutches. Every time a deatheater touched her, it would be because she had once loved him. Shit.

Severus rose.

"Headmaster, I must go. Class starts in ten minutes," he said, not addressing what Albus had stated.

Severus looked at the old wizard and noticed with irritation his blue eyes were twinkling behind the half-moon glasses again.

"I'm not sure how much the Order can do for Hermione's situation, Severus. As much as I care for the witch, her capture does not warrant starting the Final Battle for. So I'm afraid I have to leave her in your capable hands," Albus said.

Severus scowled at him.

"In my hands? I feel the sudden need for soap," the Potions Master snarked before stepping through the floo.

Behind the Headmaster, Fawkes began to sing.

The Headmaster turned his head and raised his eyebrows at the phoenix.

"Why Fawkes," Albus said, grinning at the bird, "I believe I heard you sing that same song five years ago when the Potions Master left after a discussion about Hermione. Same old tune, eh?"

Albus winked at the phoenix, who fluttered his wings and trilled agreement.

* * *

Severus emerged in his study, still scowling.

"I refuse," he said to himself, "I refuse to feel guilty about what's happened to that witch. She divorced me, I didn't divorce her. Why should I provide protection to someone without recompense? Especially someone who rejected me?"

Angrily he picked up his lesson plan and started for his classroom. An irritating little voice was sounding in his head.

_"She wouldn't be there if not for you. She was your wife. She was the mother of your child. She loved you once. You would have never known love at all if not for her."_

"Shut up!" the Potions Master hissed, storming into his classroom.

* * *

Peter Pettigrew entered Hermione's room. He saw it had been cleaned…probably by Severus. Hermione was curled up in a fetal position, dressed in her robes. One shapely leg stuck out from where the robes had ridden up mid-thigh. Peter admired it for a moment.

"Wake up!" he hissed, holding a steaming bowl of something in his hand.

Hermione didn't move

Peter looked over to the loo and saw she had her clothing folded neatly on top of it. Her jeans t-shirt and bra. Her knickers were draped over the edge of the basin, still damp from her washing them out. The wizard turned his beady eyes slowly on the still sleeping witch. She was naked under her robes. He looked at her leg and licked his thick lips. He moved closer to the bed and placed his hand on her thigh where the robe rode high. Slowly he began to push it up, rubbing his palm on her skin, trying to see the patch of hair hidden between her thighs…ooh just one look.

Suddenly Hermione's leg kicked back, catching the wizard in the stomach and upsetting the bowl he held so the food burned his arm. Hermione sat up in the bed, clutching her robes around her, moving back as far as she could.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing!" she yelled at the bent wizard.

"I was trying to wake you," he grunted.

This was bad. The Dark Lord said she wasn't to be touched, and he had touched her.

"How? By feeling me up?" Hermione demanded.

Peter straightened a bit, holding his stomach.

"Pretty soon witch, you'll be getting more than felt up. No one stays in the Dark Lord's domain without performing a service. Not even prisoners," he said, his eyes dragging over her. She was small but very curvy. Her robes couldn't hide that.

"It's not hard to tell what your duties are going to be," he smirked at her, shaking his arm. "That was your breakfast you kicked out my hand. Maybe you'll be more careful at lunch."

Hermione's stomach growled.

"Aren't you going to bring me more? It was your fault it spilled after all," Hermione said.

Peter looked at her with a leer.

"How about this?" he asked, "You be nice to me, and I'll be nice to you and bring you more food."

Hermione looked at the fat, hairy, balding rat-faced wizard and felt nauseous. All hunger drained away.

"I'll wait until lunch then," she said.

"Suit yourself, bitch," Peter snarled at her, angry he couldn't manipulate the witch. "I'll be back for you in about an hour. The Dark Lord wants to see you. Probably to discuss your 'service'."

The wizard laughed nastily as he picked up the bowl and exited. Hermione looked down at the floor at what appeared to be gray gruel of some sort. She wouldn't have found it appetizing, but she probably would have eaten it. Peter didn't even bother to scourgify the mess up.

Hermione threw the discarded scratchy wool blanket over the spillage and sopped it up, bundling up the blanket and throwing it into the corner when she was finished. She walked over to the basin, looked a bit apprehensively at the door, then dragged the bed over to it, wedging it in front of the entrance on a slant. Then she quickly removed her robes and ran the water in the basin.

The water came out a deep, sludgy brown at first, but after a moment it cleared. Using her hands, Hermione washed up as best she could. She had no washcloth or soap, so just rubbed the water over her skin. Then she jumped about a bit to try and dry off. She was still nervous about someone trying to come in and catching her naked. That wasn't a good idea. She had a feeling deatheaters would certainly take advantage of the situation.

Hermione didn't know for the time being she wasn't to be touched by Voldemort's orders. She could have walked buck naked through a crowd of deatheaters and not one would have touched her. Disobeying the Dark Lord was a death sentence, and no trim was worth that.

Hermione dressed quickly, then pulled the bed back to its original place, and sat down on it. She needed to think. What could she offer to do for the Dark Lord that didn't involved sex? She didn't have her wand with her so she couldn't do spell work. She could cook, but she didn't think the Dark Lord ate like normal wizards. He probably ate small, living rodents by the look of him, and those didn't require preparation. She was a talented researcher, and good with potions…making potions didn't require much wand work. She did have a potions degree, though she wasn't a Potions Mistress, legally. But her knowledge was quite in depth. She wasn't far from one. Maybe she could convince him to let her work with Severus or on her own in the Potions lab. It was worth a try.

The door opened.

"You ready?" he asked her coldly.

Hermione nodded.

"Well, come on then," the wizard said, holding the door open.

Hermione stood up and walked through. Peter thrust himself forward so her hip grazed his loins as she passed. Hermione grimaced. He was disgusting.

She walked down the hall toward the door that led to the throne room, followed closely by Peter.

Well, this was it. In the labs or on her back, Voldemort was going to assign her something to do.

* * *

"Now, when you approach the Dark Lord, stand very straight with your shoulders back and look him directly in the eyes," Peter whispered to Hermione as they walked through the door. "Also, since you are not a deatheater, address him as 'Tom'."

Hermione glanced sideways at the fat little wizard. Last night she observed that the deatheaters knelt when they came before Voldemort and kept their eyes lowered to the floor until he said they could look at him. And as for calling him 'Tom'…

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Peter. He was trying to get her crucio'd. Indeed, the fat little bastard was trying to hide a smile. She'd fix him.

They approached the Dark Lord. Hermione immediately knelt and lowered her eyes to the floor. Voldemort nodded slightly with approval as Peter scowled. Damn it.

"You may rise, Miss Granger and look at me," the Dark Lord said.

Hermione stood up and gazed on the serpentine visage of Voldemort. She looked like she wanted to say something.

"You wish to speak?" the Dark Lord asked her.

Hermione nodded.

"Speak then," the wizard said.

"I was wondering how I should address you? Peter told me that since I wasn't a deatheater, I should address you by the name 'Tom'," she said innocently.

Voldemort swiftly turned his head toward Peter, who was pale as a ghost.

"Did you tell her this, Peter?" Voldemort asked the trembling wizard.

Peter knew better than to lie. The Dark Lord would simply look in his mind and know the truth.

"Yes, my Lord, but only in jest," the animagus replied.

Voldemort's face twisted into a black scowl.

"You make a jest of my name, Peter? Crucio!"

The Dark Lord struck the fat little wizard with the Cruciatus curse as Hermione looked on, satisfied as Peter convulsed screaming from the pain. Voldemort held the blast on him for a minute and a half, more than enough time for the wizard to soil himself.

Voldemort ended the curse, and Peter fell to the ground seizuring, foaming at the mouth.

Voldemort's red eyes turned back to Hermione.

"You knew that would happen to him when you told me, didn't you?" Voldemort asked her.

Hermione swallowed, but answered him.

"I didn't know for certain, but I had hoped so, sir," Hermione responded, "considering that's what he hoped would have happened to me if I had followed his instructions."

The witch looked at the writhing wizard and shuddered at the idea that could have been her covered in shit and foaming at the mouth.

To her surprise, the Dark Lord laughed.

"It appears you have a little darkness in you," he said. "Refer to me as "my Lord." Although you are not one of my deatheaters, I prefer it. For the time you are here, I will be your Lord after all."

"Yes, my Lord," Hermione said.

Voldemort looked at her consideringly.

"Open your robes," he said imperiously.

Hermione didn't hesitate. She knew the Dark Lord had a hair trigger wand. She had tasted the curse last night and didn't want to feel it again. She quickly unfastened her robes and opened them so the Dark Lord could see her body, her mind working quickly.

The Dark Lord's eyes swept over her curves appreciatively.

"You are quite lovely, Hermione. You don't mind me calling you Hermione, do you?" the wizard asked her, his eyes slitted.

Actually, she did mind, but wasn't going to say so.

"No my Lord," she responded.

"Good," he said, looking at her thoughtfully. "As you probably know, everyone in my stronghold has an assigned duty. think that I will use you as a special reward for my deatheaters who have done me great service. It is an easy duty, and you will only have to handle one at a time, rather than a group. You will be untouched otherwise. I am being very generous."

"Thank you my Lord," Hermione said, hesitating. "But I wonder if I might persuade you to use me in another capacity."

The Dark Lord frowned at her audacity, but withheld his wand. He wanted to hear what she had to say.

"Another capacity?" he asked her.

"Yes my Lord. I have completed my potions studies with extremely high marks sir. I am quite good at it, almost on par with a Potions Mistress and was hoping you might use my skills in some way. Perhaps in your potions labs to work on projects for you," Hermione said hopefully.

Voldemort looked at her consideringly.

"I already have a Potions Master. Severus," he said to her, frowning slightly.

"Yes my Lord. But I imagine Severus cannot devote as much time as you would like him to, due to his duties at Hogwarts. I've worked with him, and know his procedures intimately. I could continue whatever work he's started while he is teaching."

Voldemort considered this. Hermione was right. Severus couldn't devote enough time to the potions Voldemort wanted created. He was currently trying to find a way to strengthen his snake venom so he didn't have to take it so often. He had to have it once a week. He would like to be able to take it once a month. He wondered if the witch had the skills to create such an elixir.

"Severus is aware of your skills, I imagine…since you two used to be 'close'," the Dark Lord said with a bit of a sneer. "Very well, I shall consult with Severus about this. What else can you do?"

"I have a degree in Spell Making, but I don't have my wand so…" she began.

"Spell Making?" the Dark Lord said excitedly. "You can create original spells?"

Hermione nodded, a little confused by his reaction.

"Then that is the duty you will perform for me as well as the possible position of assistant Potions maker," he said with finality.

"But my Lord, I have no wand. I lost it when Lucius took me," Hermoine exclaimed. "I cannot make spells without a wand."

"A wand is no problem, Hermione. I realize that a handpicked wand from Ollivander's is preferred, but you can use a substitute. Peter, get up!" the Dark Lord said to the recovering wizard.

Peter did his best to comply, sitting up then turning on his knees and slowly rising. Voldemort looked at Hermione with narrowed eyes.

"I need you to understand something, Hermione. You are my prisoner and cannot leave this domain. Giving you access to a wand is taking a great risk. I want to make it very plain to you, that if you try to escape, I will kill you outright. No torture, no second chances. If you try to use your magic against me, I will kill you."

"Because of the importance of your duty to me, I will however allow you to protect yourself against my deatheaters. Like every other female here, they will want a chance at you and I will not deny them that chance. They will want you more because you are a mudblood. You will have to be vigilant if you want to remain untouched. If you can, ally yourself with one or two of our females. They protect themselves in groups. In my ranks it is dog eat dog, Hermione. Raw and cutthroat. The only thing I don't allow is outright murder. Rape is perfectly fine. To the stronger go the spoils. Be strong, Hermione or be prey. Wormtail!"

Peter stepped forward a little shakily. The Dark Lord was going to give the mudblood a wand? Good gods. He'd have to watch his step.

"Wormtail, take her to the wand room and let her go through them until she finds one that suits her," the Dark Lord said. "Hermione, remember what I have told you. This wand is for the duty you have to me. A lab will be set up for you. If you try to use it in any way to free yourself or harm me, you WILL DIE."

"Yes my Lord," Hermione said, bowing slightly.

"Go with Wormtail," the Dark Lord said, scourgifying the shitty, pissy wizard and dismissing her.

Hermione followed Peter to a door in the far wall. The wizard opened it and led her down a small, badly lit hallway to another door at the far end. He opened it and she walked through. With his wand, Peter turned up the torches. Hermione's eyes went wide.

Piled in the room was nothing but wands, hundreds if not thousands of them.

"Where did they all come from?" she asked Peter, her voice just above a whisper.

"They are the wands of the dead," Peter replied. "The Dark Lord keeps them as mementos."

Hermione shuddered. A life was lost for every wand here. Voldemort was a true tyrant.

"Well, get started," Peter said impatiently, sitting down in a small wooden chair against the wall.

Hermione picked up an eleven-inch wand made of maple. She pointed it. A few weak sparks shot out. She put it behind her so she wouldn't choose it again.

She didn't have Mr. Ollivander to guide her to the wand best suited for her this time.

This could take a while.

* * *

Voldemort sat on his throne looking a bit bored when suddenly a deatheater apparated into the throne room, hood drawn. The servant began to walk toward him. The Dark Lord immediately knew who it was by the walk. That walk could make a dead man get an erection.

"Bella," he lisped, feeling his loins stir. Just what he needed. His favorite female plaything.

The witch lowered her hood, revealing wildly curling black hair, sultry gray eyes and blood red lips. She opened the first few fasteners of her robes so her ample cleavage was visible beneath. Like always she wore nothing beneath. She knelt, displaying her breasts.

"My Lord," she breathed.

"Rise Bella, and approach me," Voldemort said hoarsely, spreading his legs slightly.

Bella mounted the steps to the throne and dropped to her knees between his legs, looking up at him. She placed a pale hand on his thigh. Her nails were painted black and had the tiny image of a silver skull on each.

"Did Lucius deliver the mudblood, my Lord?" Bella asked him, rubbing his thin thigh as the wizard began unfastening his robes.

"Yes, Bella…she is here, selecting a wand," the Dark Lord breathed, his crimson eyes on her full lips.

Bella looked surprised.

"A prisoner with a wand, my Lord?" she asked him, her brow slightly furrowed.

"It is for a duty she is to perform for me. She knows it means death if she misuses it," he said, pulling his robes apart and revealing his writhing, scaled member. Bella took it in her hand, and he hissed…just like a snake.

"Do you think she suspects, my Lord? What we did?" Bella asked, petting his twisting organ.

"No," the Dark Lord sighed, enjoying her touch, "Both she and Severus believe the miscarriage was a natural occurrence. They have no reason to believe otherwise. You did well, Bella. Your execution was flawless."

"Thank you, my Lord," she said, taking him into her mouth and sucking hard.

Both of the wizard's long, elegant hands locked into Bellatrix LeStrange's ebony curls as he threw his head back with pleasure.

"Yessssss," Voldemort hissed as her lips dragged over him. "Thank me, Bella. Thank me, my faithful servant."

* * *

When Severus returned to the Dark Lord's stronghold, he expected to find Hermione locked in her room, sore from being fucked by at least two deatheaters. He had no doubt Voldemort would make her a 'reward' for good service. There were several deatheaters in his favor right now. He might have given them Hermione as a gift for their loyalty. They would have put her through the paces, especially since she was a mudblood.

Well, at least the witch was prepared. When she was with Severus, he had taken Hermione around the world sexually, and he wasn't the gentlest lover. Hermione hadn't wanted him to be either. That was something that astounded him about the petite witch. Her strength and her hunger when she was aroused and wanted him. He found this out two nights after they first became lovers.

Hermione was working with him and Flitwick at Hogwarts to gain hands-on credits for her Spell Making and Potions courses. She had just started her third year of college. From the time she entered his lab, there was sexual tension. Hermione was so attracted to him that she almost blew up the Potions lab several times because she found it hard to focus. He had looked in her mind and saw her fantasies about him. Severus felt she was going to kill them both if he didn't do something about it. So he did. The Potions Master found the small witch attractive in a number of ways. But he knew she would never divulge how she felt about him or what she wanted from him. So he made the conscious decision to fuck the young witch and get it out of her system.

Hermione had come to the lab late in the evening as he instructed, to find there were no projects set up and Severus had closed the door to the lab and warded it. Then he informed her that he knew about her attraction to her and that he had seen her fantasies about him, and rather than be killed because she couldn't focus, he planned to fulfill her desire. Hermione had been embarrassed, but the moment he touched her, she nearly melted into a puddle. Severus had never seen such desire in a witch. She trembled with need. He asked her if she wanted him from the back or did she want to look at him. Her response was she wanted to see him.

Severus put Hermione on her back on his desk, removed her knickers, opened his robes, pulled down his trousers and his boxers, lifted her legs and entered her strongly without preliminaries, filling her completely and stroking hard. Hermione had screamed horribly and it wasn't a cry of passion. Severus was huge but he shouldn't have caused her that much pain. Most witches felt extreme pleasure when he put his tool to them. He stopped fucking the witch, pushed her robes back and pulled out of her partway. The Potions Master was stunned to see the blood of Hermione's maidenhead on his shaft. The witch had been a virgin and didn't tell him.

He looked down at her. Hermione had tears streaming from her eyes and was shuddering like a child shudders when they've cried too much. Severus had never taken a virgin in his life. He had never been any witch's first. Someone else had always beaten him to the mark.

"Why didn't you tell me you had never done this before, Hermione?" he asked her.

She looked up at him, her amber eyes soft.

"Because I knew if I had told you, you wouldn't have touched me," she replied, "and I wanted you to be the one to take my virginity, Professor. I've waited two years for this."

"Why me? Why not a wizard closer to your age? Someone you cared about? Hermione, a witch's virginity is precious. You should have saved it for someone who meant something to you," he said.

He was very uncomfortable with what he had done. Hermione was right. If Severus had known she was a virgin, he wouldn't have taken her…at least not like this, on a desk in his Potions lab. He felt horribly guilty.

"But you do mean something to me, Professor," Hermione had told him, and proceeded to tell him why.

There was a strong physical attraction because of his demeanor, also an intellectual attraction because he was a brilliant wizard, then there was an emotional attraction because of all he sacrificed for the Wizarding world so selflessly. Hermione believed she loved him and had loved him since her seventh year. She then pleaded with him to finish and show her what sex was all about.

In response, the Potions Master had gathered her up, taken her to his private rooms, undressed her and showed her the pleasures of sex the right way. He was gentle with her though gods knew he didn't want to be. Hermione was responsive, passionate and eager. When she returned to her room, he couldn't stop thinking about her. They didn't get any work done the next night either.

On the third night when he took her, Hermione kept begging him to fuck her harder. Severus was worried he would hurt her, but she begged him so passionately he couldn't help but comply and by the time he had climaxed, she had come numerous times under his violent pummeling, sobbing his name, screaming like a banshee, tears streaming from her eyes.

When he was finished and was holding her quaking body, Hermione told him how good he had been and that was how she always dreamed he would take her. She claimed his pain was the sweetest pain she had ever felt, a pain that gave her the sweetest pleasure. Severus wasn't sure he understood how that worked but after that night he made sure to give her all the sweet, pounding pleasure she could ever desire. It was freeing for him as well. Hermione also had other little quirks that he found wickedly delightful and fulfilled with gusto. Eventually, the Potions Master came to love her powerfully.

Severus literally shook his head to force back these memories, willing himself to deflate. The only time he ever hardened now was when he woke up in the morning, and when he thought about fucking Hermione back when they were so in love. Before the loss of their child, before the arguments, before she moved his things out, before the divorce.

He entered the throne room thinking he would have to go back to Hermione's room and listen to her cry and tell him about the horrors she had gone through. He really didn't want to hear them for a number of reasons. Firstly, there was nothing he could do about it, and secondly…Albus had succeeded in making him realize that her being here was partially his fault. He also blamed her for not being more vigilant and allowing herself to be taken. But he felt a bit of guilt anyway.

He had taken several steps when he stopped, stunned to see Hermione standing in front of the Dark Lord, talking animatedly…with a wand in her hand. A wand! How had the witch managed that? Against the wall a number of deatheaters stood watching her with a mixture of malice, jealousy and lust in their eyes. They whispered to each other and it was easy to see they meant her no good.

Severus approached the throne and knelt.

Voldemort beamed down at him.

"Ah Severus. Rise and look at me," the Dark Lord said, evidently in a very good mood.

Severus stood up and looked up at Voldemort, though he really wanted to look at Hermione, who was standing there looking at him engage the Dark Lord.

"Severus, why did you not tell me how brilliant your ex-wife is? Her knowledge of the Dark Arts is phenomenal. We have been talking theory and application all evening. She is quite entertaining. And a Spells Mistress…how did you let that escape my notice?"

Now the Dark Lord's eyes narrowed a bit. Severus had hid his wife's talents from him. And he had. The Potions Master knew if Voldemort discovered how talented his wife was, he would have wanted her to serve him. Hermione would never have done that and the repercussions would have been horrible.

"It just never crossed my mind, my Lord," Severus said, steeling himself.

Voldemort looked at him for a moment.

"Crucio!" the Dark Lord cried, hitting the Potions Master with a powerful burst of the curse.

Hermione looked on in horror as her ex-husband shuddered and writhed under the curse. But he didn't scream, not even when his arm broke from seizuring. Voldemort held Severus under the curse for a full four minutes. Tears streamed from Hermione's eyes as she watched the Potions Master gnash his teeth, his eyes rolling up in his head and shit and piss himself. But she couldn't protest or she would receive a blast too. All she could do was cry.

Finally, Voldemort released Severus, and he fell, writhing and contorting to the stone floor, his right arm flopping uselessly. He continued to seizure, Hermione looking down at him in sympathy, wanting to go to him and try to help him. But she didn't dare.

Voldemort's red eyes studied the witch.

"It hurts you to see him in such pain, doesn't it?" the Dark Lord asked her, thinking this knowledge would come in handy.

"I hate to see any living creature in pain, my Lord," Hermione replied, her wet eyes on Voldemort.

"You had no such tears when Peter was writhing on the floor," Voldemort countered.

"That's because Peter got what he wanted me to get," Hermione said, "He deserved what happened to him."

Severus' convulsions were slowing but his back was arching in pain still. Voldemort considered Hermione's answer about Peter.

"So, you don't think Severus deserved this punishment?" Voldemort asked her.

Hermione looked up at the Dark Lord and knew she was in a catch twenty-two. If she said that Severus didn't deserve the punishment it would be tantamount to challenging the Dark Lord's authority. If she said he did deserve the punishment, then Severus would hear her siding against him. She didn't need any more animosity from him than he was already showing. She knew Severus purposely didn't tell the Dark Lord about her to protect her. So in fact, she was the reason he had been punished. She felt horrible. She looked at Voldemort.

"I think," she said carefully, "that I shouldn't presume to fathom the acts the Dark Lord chooses to commit."

Voldemort looked at Hermione with a bit of respect…just a touch. She had nicely extricated herself from giving him a direct answer.

"You are correct, Hermione. And wise," he said. Then his red eyes fell on Severus.

"Severus selfishly kept you to himself. If he had let me know how brilliant you were, I would not have tortured him for marrying you," Voldemort said.

Hermione looked at the dark wizard with wide eyes, before turning them on her ex-husband, who was now lying on his back, his chest rising and falling. Severus had been tortured for marrying her? He never said anything about it. Voldemort looked at her.

"You look surprised Hermione. I take that he never told you how displeased I was he married a mudblood. I didn't mind him fucking you, but marrying you…that was a dragon of a different color. But he had already wed you by the time I found out. He purposely didn't tell me of his plans, because he knew I would forbid it. He was hung from the beams and beaten and scourged for three days."

His red eyed narrowed.

"I was doubly displeased that you were with child. It was a pollution of the worst sort. A bastardization of Severus' magical heredity. A crime against nature. Luckily, nature rectified that error," Voldemort said coldly.

Anger and pain shot through Hermione as Severus opened his eyes and looked over at her. He couldn't speak…he couldn't stop her.

"How dare you say my child was a pollution, a crime? If he had lived he would have been a powerful wizard. He might have made a difference in the world!" she said to the Dark Lord angrily.

The deatheaters all fell silent, their mouths open in shock, staring at the witch who dared address their Master in such a chastising manner.

"Well, the only difference he is making now is to the worms," the Dark Lord replied. "I realize Hermione, it is emotion that caused your outburst concerning the truth I spoke. However…Crucio!"

Hermione's small body seized up and she began screaming horribly as the Dark Lord applied the curse to her. Severus was propped haphazardly on one elbow, watching his ex-wife suffer for defending their lost child and challenging the Dark Lord's views. She still had that Gryffindor courage…even if it were a reckless courage.

Voldemort held the curse on her for a full minute, before releasing her. She wasn't as strong as Severus. The witch fell to the floor on her back, shuddering and convulsing. If the Dark Lord had looked at Severus, he would have seen pure hatred in his black eyes at that moment. That was his child the Dark Lord had described as a crime against nature. His blood. Severus had never known that Voldemort was against the birth of his son. He stared at the red-eyed wizard. A knot formed in his belly as he did so. When Voldemort was against something, he did his best to change it.

Severus looked over at his convulsing ex-wife.

Her miscarriage had appeared to be an unfortunate occurrence. When Poppy examined Hermione, she could find no physical reason for her to have lost the baby.

No one thought to investigate if there were a magical one.

A cold rage began to spread throughout the wizard's body. He would look into this. If Severus found out that the Dark Lord had in some way caused his son's death and the dissolution of his marriage, Voldemort wouldn't have to worry about Dumbledore, Harry Potter, or the Final Battle occurring on some obscure plain in the distant future.

It would start and end right in his fucking stronghold.

* * *

Voldemort healed Severus' broken arm with a flick of his wand, then scourgified him.

"Take your ex-wife back to her room," he said to the Potions Master.

"Yes, my Lord," Severus said, bowing. He walked over to Hermione, who was still shuddering on the floor, but sitting up. He pulled her to her feet.

This was the first time the Potions Master had touched the witch in over a year. She was lighter than she used to be. He grasped her arm and helped her walk back towards the door that opened on the hallway where her room was located. Just before he entered it, two deatheaters blocked his path.

"We want the mudblood, Severus. She's fair game," one tall, muscular, brown-eyed wizard snarled, his eyes shifting over the small, shuddering witch.

Hermione had her wand in her hand but seemed in no condition to defend herself against them. She was just regaining lucidity. Now would be the perfect time to take her, when she was weak from the curse. Severus looked from one wizard to the other.

"She is recovering from the Cruciatus curse," he said quietly, "she is in no condition to defend herself."

"We know. That's why we want her," the other wizard said.

He was short with green eyes and brown hair. He had a leer on his face and his robes were noticeably tented. Severus' black eyes shifted from wizard to wizard.

"The Dark Lord told me to return her to her room, and that is what I am going to do," he said evenly, "she is under my protection until I complete my Lord's orders."

There. No one could accuse him of protecting the witch. He was following the Dark Lord's directive.

"But if you put her in her room, we can't touch her. Her room is off-limits," the first wizard complained.

"That's not my problem," Severus said rather dangerously, "Now step aside and let me finish my task."

The two deatheaters hesitated, staring at Hermione who looked up at them, her eyes focusing. She had heard everything. Her hand tightened on her wand.

"Let me go, Severus," she said in a raspy voice. She was hoarse from screaming.

"You can barely stand," he said to her in a low voice, looking again at the deatheaters, both who had gone on point. They were about ten feet away in front of the door leading to her room.

"If I fall, then those two will have that much less work to do," she replied trying to pull away from him.

If she fell, then Severus would have to watch the two wizards fuck her. The idea of it made his stomach tighten uncomfortably.

"But Hermione…" he said, "I can take you to your room. They won't stop me. If I let you go they are going to take you down and rape you."

Hermione drew in a deep breath. She looked at him, her eyes narrowed with determination. Severus remembered that look.

"Let me go, Severus. I have to face them or they'll just go for me later," Hermione said, her voice slightly stronger.

The Potions Master let her arm go and stepped away from her. The deatheaters immediately lunged, thinking she could only hex one of them before the other got her down.

But they didn't know Hermione. She was a Spells Mistress.

"Pulsus duo!" Hermione cried pointing her new wand at the charging wizards.

Two white, crackling balls of energy blasted from her wand tip simultaneously and slammed into the wizards, lifting them up and slamming them into the stone wall with terrible force. They were both knocked unconscious.

Hermione blew on the tip of her wand as if blowing out a match, then stuck it in her robe pocket. Severus looked at her, clearly impressed. He had never seen a spell like that.

Hermione headed for the door.

"Where did you learn that spell?" he asked her.

"I made it," she said shortly as she opened the door to the hall and entered. Severus followed her.

"And how did you manage to get a wand?" he asked.

"Voldemort wants me to create spells for him. It's better than having my heels up in the air," she said.

"But Hermione, he will use those spells against the Order," the Potions Master said frowning.

"I've got it covered, Severus," she responded, opening the door to her room and trying to close it before Severus could follow her in. He held the door, scowling at her.

Hermione scowled back at him.

"What do you want, Severus? You made it clear that you weren't going to help me, so I came up with a way to help myself. I don't need you now," she said.

He looked down at her.

"I know that, Hermione. You made it perfectly clear when you divorced me," he replied, "but I need to talk to you. It's concerning Jacob."

Hermione's eyes went wide for a moment, then became quickly wet.

"I don't want to talk about him, Severus. It's too painful," she said, her voice quavering.

"It's painful for me too, Hermione. He was my son as well as yours. I feel his loss just as deeply. But…I need to talk to you…in your room," Severus said, his dark eyes meeting hers.

There was something about the way her ex-husband looked that made Hermione let him in. Severus closed the door and warded it with a silencing charm. He turned to find Hermione with her wand pointed at him.

"My room is off-limits, Severus. If you mean to rape me, you have to do it elsewhere…and I'll blast you even faster than I would another deatheater," she snarled.

The Potions Master stared at her in amazement for a moment. Then his eyes narrowed.

"Hermione, at this point in time, I am probably the only deatheater in the stronghold that does not want to rape you," he said coldly, "So you can put your wand down. The only reason I warded the door was so we would not be heard discussing our child. Others will assume I am indulging myself with you however, so it won't be considered odd the door is warded."

Hermione glared at him for a moment, then lowered her wand.

"I'm sorry Severus. This whole situation has me on edge. I should have known better than to think that. It's just unnerving to know it's just me against an entire horde of randy deatheaters. I don't know how I am going to get out of here…or if I ever am," she said, dropping on the bed dejectedly.

A small shudder went through her…a leftover tremor from the curse.

"Now you said you wanted to discuss something about…about Jacob," she said.

Severus sat down next to her. This was going to be delicate. He didn't want to set the witch off and get her killed by raging into the Dark Lord's throne room. His suspicions could be entirely off the mark and the miscarriage an unfortunate occurrence.

"Hermione, I need something from you. I need a pensieve of the entire twenty-four hour period of the day before your miscarriage," he said.

"Why? We went over everything verbally Severus. I went to Hogsmeade to pick up some things, had lunch at the Three Broomsticks and apparated home. I lost the baby that night," she said, her voice a bit strained as she remembered it.

The sharp pain, the agony, the blood…Severus finding her, rushing her to Hogwarts…losing her child. Her son.

"I still need it, Hermione. And I need to do something else, and I don't want to do it without your knowledge. I am going to exhume Jacob's body," he said softly.

Hermione stared at him for a moment.

"You think something happened, Severus. You think this wasn't an accident," she said, her voice turning shrilly. "You think someone murdered my baby in the womb."

Hermione went silent a moment, her amber eyes moving about in their sockets as they did when she was going over something in her mind.

"It was what Voldemort said about our baby bastardizing your heredity and how he disapproved of my being pregnant. You think he had something to do with it! Did Voldemort kill my baby, Severus? Did he?" Hermione asked, a wild look in her eyes.

Severus grasped both her hands tightly.

"Calm down, Hermione. I don't know if he did or not. That's why I want to exhume Jacob. If the miscarriage was triggered by something magical, traces of it may remain in his tissue. If there is any trace, we can assume someone wanted us to lose our child. But that won't be enough. We have to find out how it was done. The pensieve you give me might be the key. But we can't assume it was Voldemort. I've made enemies over the years, Hermione. Still, we need to find out for certain. If my son was killed, and I find out the means of his death, I will demand blood for blood…even if it means my life," the Potions Master said vehemently. "He will be avenged, I promise you."

Hermione looked up at him, then down at his hands, clasping hers tightly. Severus looked down too, then quickly released them. He rose swiftly.

"Hermione, I need you to maintain objectivity. I don't want you confronting Voldemort or you will tip him that we are investigating our child's death and probably be killed. You have to remain calm. You have a bad temper Hermione. You must contain it," Severus said, frowning down at her.

Hermione looked mutinous for a moment, then the tears began to flow.

"He was my son, Severus. My son," she sobbed, wiping at her eyes.

"No Hermione. He was our son. Mine and yours. We both lost someone precious and irreplaceable. Someone that was created from our love," he said.

Hermione looked up at him, her eyes shining.

"Find out, Severus. Find out if it wasn't an accident of Nature. I hope you don't find anything though. To have lost him is bad enough, but if he was purposely taken from us…."

Hermione began crying again. Severus looked down at her helplessly. He had no right to comfort her…he could use a bit of comfort himself. This was the same helpless feeling he had when she had first lost the baby. But there was something he could do this time. He couldn't bring Jacob back, but he could find out why he left them. Find out if it were nature or murder. Then there could be closure…or revenge.

Severus walked to the door, then turned back to Hermione

"I am going to return to Hogwarts and let Albus know of my suspicions. Then I will retrieve Jacob from his resting place on the school grounds. Tomorrow I will bring you a small pensieve and you will deposit your memories in it. I will take the pensieve back to Hogwarts with me and go over it minute by minute and see if I can discover anything or anyone out of place. If I do…"

He scowled blackly, not finishing the sentence. He unwarded the door.

"Ward this back," he said to Hermione, then exited without saying goodbye.

Hermione thought her ex-husband sounded a bit protective, but then again it could just be the natural command in his voice.

Hermione re-warded the door, then removed her robes and lay down in the bed.

Someone may have killed their baby. Her eyes narrowed murderously.

If they had, that someone would pay and pay dearly.

* * *

"Severus, are you sure you want to do this? Perhaps someone else…" Albus said, a sober look on his face.

"Jacob was my son, Albus. I have a great knowledge of potions and powders. I doubt any one else could do the examination and tests with as much thoroughness as I can. I have a vested interest in this. It is best I am the one to exhume and examine my son," Severus stated flatly.

Albus knew that tone. The subject was closed as far as the Potions Master was concerned.

"At least take Hagrid with you," Albus pleaded with the dark wizard.

"I don't need Hagrid, Headmaster. All I need is a shovel and light," Severus replied, "I would like to request a couple of days off. We are doing reviews in class now and the lesson plan is completed and simple to follow."

"Of course, Severus, of course," Albus said, "Whatever time you need. But what I am concerned about Severus, is what you will do if you do find out it was foul play?"

Severus rose, and looked at Dumbledore steadily.

"Headmaster, what would you do if someone murdered your unborn child while he was floating safe in his mother's womb? What would you do if that murderer not only cost you your son, but also the love of your life? What would you do, Headmaster?" Severus asked him.

Albus' blue eyes went cold as ice for a moment.

"Do what you need to do Severus…and if you need my help, I expect you to come to me. Do you understand?" the Headmaster said, his eyes still dark with anger. "Especially if the Dark Lord was involved. It is bad enough he slaughters wizards and witches in the street, but to have his evil reach into the womb to destroy the most innocent of us all is too much, and I will gladly stand by your side if you choose to face him. I mean that Severus. Do not forget me if that situation should arise."

"Thank you Albus. I may have to take you up on that offer," Severus replied, tossing in some floo powder and stepping through the floo.

* * *

An hour later, a lone robed figure walked across the grounds of Hogwarts beneath the half moon's light. A shovel rested on his shoulder, and he carried a lantern. He walked until he came to a small garden, and a tiny, white marble marker. He stood there several moments…looking down on the tiny grave. There was no one but the moon and the stars to witness the wetness forming in his coal-black eyes.

Severus set the lantern down where it would shed the best light, swallowed, then steeled himself.

He began to dig.

* * *

The Potions Master walked swiftly across the grounds, carrying a lantern and a small oblong box tucked securely under his arm. He didn't enter the castle through the main doors, but instead walked around to a little used vine-covered door that opened directly on to the dungeon corridor.

He unwarded his office door, entered then warded it back, walking quickly toward his lab. He entered and gently set the small coffin on his counter and cast a stasis spell on it. He wasn't sure how the air would interact with his son's remains.

Severus pulled up a stool and sat down a little distance from the counter and stared at the small casket. Hermione had been almost five months when she lost the baby. Poppy had suggested they let her dispose of the remains, but neither Severus nor Hermione wanted that. He was still their child and deserved a proper burial. Only he, Hermione, Albus and Filch were at the gravesite. Severus had carried the casket himself, and also placed it in the grave as Hermione sobbed brokenly.

Filch stood off a ways respectfully, a shovel on his shoulder. He would fill in the child's grave when his parents left. As gnarled and bad-tempered as he was, the old caretaker couldn't help sympathizing with their grief. His eyes brimmed with tears as he heard the wails of the poor baby's mother. Albus stood by gravely, looking a bit older than what he was, his eyes also wet behind the half-moon glasses.

Severus' jaw was tightly locked as he looked down on the small casket. His son was gone before he even had a chance to see the world. Severus had small dreams of a little infant boy or girl he could bounce on his knee, a child he could be kind to and show love to, unlike his own father, a child he would teach every secret he knew concerning herbs and potions, one who he would watch graduate from Hogwarts with the best marks in a hundred years, eclipsing even Hermione's brilliance.

A single tear leaked from the Potions Master's eye, and he made no move to contain it as it coursed down his cheek, under his chin and dripped on to his dress robes.

Albus said but a few words, then the service was done. Severus had to gently pull the grieving Hermione from the gravesite. She didn't want to leave her child in the cold earth. Filch waited until they disappeared over a rise in the landscape, then set about his duty, forming a little mound.

"Poor little tyke," the caretaker said to the mound of earth, "Don't worry. I'll keep it pretty here for you. I'll plant flowers and such, little berry bushes to bring the bees, birds and rabbits. They'll buzz, sing and nibble. You won't be alone. You'll always be surrounded by life, little one."

Filch was as good as his word. He tended Jacob's grave as if he had been his own child. Hermione's grief had moved the old caretaker's hard heart, and he wanted it pretty anytime she came there to visit.

Severus sighed as his looked at the oak casket. He removed his robes, and rolled up his shirtsleeves, then set about collecting the knives, bowls and solutions he would need to test the remaining tissues. He too hoped he would find nothing out of the ordinary. It would be much kinder if life retreated simply because it wasn't time.

Everything arranged, Severus blinked down at the casket for several moments, his heart pounding. Finally, he inserted a small crowbar-like instrument and began wedging the small coffin open. When the edges were all loosened, he sat the tool on the counter, and returned to the stool to stare at the casket a bit longer. He had known it would be difficult, but thought he would be stronger than this.

After another half an hour, he steeled himself.

"I must do this. For Jacob, for Hermione, for myself," he said to himself and he strode over to the coffin and opened it.

* * *

Severus worked tirelessly through the night, cutting and testing, examining and testing the small pieces of flaky tissue. He found something that should not have been there and isolated it with a stasis spell. He then carefully replaced the small body and tissue samples back in the coffin and sealed it with his wand. He covered it with a cloth.

Using his wand and several solutions he tested the abnormal tissue until he identified the substance.

His face turned terrible as he whispered, "Murdered. My son, my child was murdered in the womb."

The Mordres Potion. An illegal elixir created for the sole purpose of ending pregnancy. The wizarding world was decidedly pro-life. To even have this potion in one's possession meant ten years in Azkaban prison. It took months to create, requiring weeks of applied heat, fermentation and precisely timed additions of the rare herbs necessary to bring it to potency. A very small amount caused the uterus to expel its contents. The potion cost a small fortune to make, and required a Master to brew it properly. It came in two forms. Liquid and finely powdered, the powdered form being the most potent, activated if inhaled, or somehow came in contact with any damp portion of the body where it would be absorbed into the skin or tissue.

Yes, this potion required a very skilled Potions Master to brew it, but any Potions Master found brewing such an elixir would be disbarred and forced to serve twenty-five years minimum in Azkaban. Severus knew every practicing Potions Master of note in the wizarding world, and none of them were of the character to create such an elixir for any price.

But what about Potions Masters who weren't practicing? Those who had been disbarred and served their sentences, and were released at the time he and Hermione married. There couldn't have been that many. The Ministry kept records of released prisoners and their whereabouts, even after serving their full sentences.

Hm, Ronald Weasley worked in the Ministry. Maybe he could…no…no. Albus could easily request any records and they would be delivered to him. The Headmaster already agreed to help him face Voldemort. He would most certainly requisition the records of all disbarred Potions Masters released before Hermione became pregnant. Severus would ask him to do it tomorrow morning.

After going over the names, he might just have to pay one or two of those disbarred Potions Masters a visit and find out if any had done any under the cauldron brewing shortly before their loss. And if so, for who?

Severus' eyes glittered with vengeance.

Someone had intentionally caused Hermione to miscarry. What he needed to know now was how Hermione was infected with this potion? Did someone slip it into her food at the Three Broomsticks, or did she inadvertently inhale it?

He needed that pensieve.

* * *

Hermione was sound asleep when there was a knock on her door. She sat up quickly, first turning up the single torch then pointing her wand at the door. Shit, it had to be at least five in the morning.

"Go away. My room is off limits!" she shouted at the door.

"Not if you let me in it isn't," replied a female voice.

Female? Hermione's brows lifted. There was a female deatheater at her door?

"Who are you? What do you want?" Hermione called at the door.

"It's Bellatrix LeStrange. I wanted to see how you are doing," the gray-eyed witch said, grinning wickedly on the other side of the door.

"Are you alone?" Hermione asked her, rising from the bed.

"Do you think I would bring any of those pigs with me? I abhor them all," Bella replied.

Hermione thought about this, then unwarded the door. She leveled her wand at it.

"Come in, slowly…both hands empty and in front of you," Hermione breathed, ready to hex.

Slowly the knob turned and the door swung open. A pair of pale, feminine hands turned palm up entered first, followed by the curvaceous body of Bellatrix LeStrange. The witch twisted her hands at Hermione.

"Nothing up my sleeves," she said, smiling at Hermione in a way that looked distinctly carnivorous. Bella eyed the upraised wand. "May I put my hands down now?"

Hermione nodded, and slowly lowered her wand…but she didn't put it away. She still remembered Bellatrix from the Department of Mysteries. The witch was vicious and violent.

"How can I help you, Bellatrix?" Hermione asked her.

Bella leveled her gray eyes at Hermione speculatively, as if sizing her up. The witch noticed Hermione had not put away her wand. She was cautious. She was wise to be.

"The rest of the girls and I were curious what the witch who dumped Severus Snape was like," Bella said, "When he took up with you, there were quite a few disappointed females here at the stronghold. Severus was a real stud. He could go for hours…I myself can remember one time…"

"I really don't care to hear about my ex-husband's sexual prowess with other women, Bellatrix. I assure you, I am very familiar with what he is capable of, thank you," Hermione said evenly. "In fact, since he is free now I imagine he will be most accommodating if you wanted a repeat performance."

Bellatrix turned her mouth downward a bit.

"You would think that wouldn't you. I mean after going from that…" Here she pointed at Hermione, "to this…" and she pointed at herself, "You wouldn't think he'd be able to resist someone as prime as I am. But Severus hasn't touched anyone here…or anywhere as far as I know, since you divorced him."

Hermione just looked at her, a bit of disbelief on her face. Severus had a very strong sex drive. It was hard to believe he wasn't fucking anyone. Bella's eyes narrowed.

"You didn't hit him with an Impotence spell before you divorced him, did you?" Bella asked in a "you can tell me" voice.

"Of course I didn't. Severus can shag who he wants. If he doesn't want you…then that's something between you and him. I could care less," Hermione spat.

"Do you ever miss him? Those cold lonely nights?" Bella asked her.

Hermione sat down and looked up at the witch in exasperation.

"I thought you came here to find out about me. Sounds like you want to know more about my ex-husband than me," she said her eyes narrowed.

"Of course we do. You are only interesting because you had him exclusively to yourself for five years…oh…did I say five? I didn't mean that. Let me correct myself. You were married for three of those five years but not intimate for two and a half," Bella said, a nasty smile on her face.

Hermione was taken aback.

"How do you know that?" Hermione asked her. "That was personal information."

"Not after your divorce became public. You included other grounds for divorce other than being muggle-born. That was available to anyone who wanted to read it in the Ministry records. It was popular reading around here for a while. Even our Lord got a good laugh out of it. Severus was a laughingstock. Everyone started kicking his ass in the arena too," Bella said, enjoying telling Hermione all this.

"It was hilarious. You moved out of his bedroom. Suspected him of cheating because he was gone days at a time. Hadn't engaged in intercourse with him for two and a half years. Sent all of his clothing back to Hogwarts…gods it was too much. How did he keep from killing you?" Bella laughed. "Particularly since you lost his child. I don't understand why he just didn't abandon you right then. After all, he only married you because you were pregnant, am I right? Why did he stick around and take all that abuse from you? The only good thing that came from it though was he was an animal in the arena. He fought three or four wizards at once sometimes almost killing all of them. He was something to see then. But after the divorce?"

Bella held one arm out, then let it flop dramatically.

"He was nothing," she said, " Wizards half his size were kicking his ass all around the throne room. The fight with the deatheaters last night was the first fight he'd won in more than a year. The Dark Lord thinks it's because of your presence. So naturally we witches were curious as to what you had that made Severus respond as he did. Whatever it is, I certainly can't see it," Bella said with a sneer, looking Hermione up and down as if she were garbage. "It's a shame that Severus is so ruined in his tastes now, he can only respond to a filthy mudblood."

Hermione stood up, pointing her wand directly between Bellatrix's eyes.

"All right Bellatrix, you have officially worn out your welcome and pissed me off. Get the fuck out of my room before I blast your pale ass through the door," Hermione said, her amber eyes flashing.

Bellatrix backed toward the door slowly.

"Careful, little mudblood. You wouldn't want the females after you like the males are. Only lust wouldn't be our motive. Humiliation would. We have lots of little toys we use on each other when we're bored…" she said, her lips drawn up in a lascivious smile. "We have dildos much bigger than that monster of a wand Severus has. But you might find that…pleasant."

"Get out, Bellatrix. I'm warning you," Hermione said evenly.

Bella turned and exited out the door…then stuck her head back in.

"This is what a girl gets for trying to be friendly?" she asked, her eyes slitted.

"GET OUT!" Hermione seethed, slamming and warding the door with her wand. Bella extracted her head just in time.

Hermione dropped back on the bed.

"Fuck," she said to herself, "Now I have the witches as well as the wizards after me. Voldemort's reign is worse than Caligula's"

She lay back down in the bed and tried to catch a few more winks.

She hoped Severus had some news when she saw him tonight.

Severus. So he hadn't returned to the arms of the female deatheaters? And she hadn't known the details of their divorce were made public knowledge, but she should have figured they would be. Theirs was the first wizarding divorce in many, many, many years. And the fighting? Severus was a powerful fighter. Had their divorce taken that much out of him that he had been a punching bag for deatheaters for the past year? How horrible.

Hermione realized that she hadn't thought about how Severus was coping with their divorce. But he had said he wanted to walk away. All she had done was let him do it. He was supposed to be happy. She had always assumed he was, since he was out of a miserable marriage like he wanted. He had wanted it, hadn't he?

She lay there thinking about when she got the owl from his solicitor, asking to meet with her for an attempt at reconciliation. How she had torn the parchment to bits in a fit of rage. Then how he had tried to offer her what a wife deserved from her spouse. Support, assets. She threw those back at him as well.

She began to think. She accused him of cheating on her, when he was simply gone like he was always gone…doing his work for the Order. She accused him of cheating on her when she had left his bed, denying him sex. If he had gone elsewhere…it would have been her own fault. She realized she had made up the charge to justify treating him badly and escalating the arguments that occurred more and more. As Hermione thought about this, her mind turned to the arguments themselves. How she would walk in on Severus quietly reading a Potions magazine and start in on him, cursing and brow-beating him for no other reason than he was there to target. He never once cursed her back. He would leave or go to his room and ward the door while she raged outside it.

He never really said anything truly hurtful until he got mad and said she made him miserable and wished he could walk away. But had he meant it? When she said all the terrible things she said to him, had she meant them or was she lashing out because of Jacob, having no one else to heap her anger and grief on other than her husband? Did Severus finally reach the breaking point and purposely say something to hurt her as badly as she was hurting him?

Today, he corrected her and said they had both lost a child. That Jacob was his son too, and he also felt grief. Hermione was realizing that she had treated Jacob's death as something that affected her alone. No one else could possibly understand how it was to carry a child in your womb and lose it.

But that child was Severus' child as well. He placed his ear against her belly to try and hear the tiny heartbeat constantly, and would rub her belly, saying he wanted the baby to know his touch. He was constantly proclaiming that his child would not be a dunderhead like the majority of idiot children in the wizarding world. He had dreams invested in Jacob. He may not have carried him physically, but he carried their child in his heart. Not only had he lost Jacob, but he had lost her too.

Hermione had promised him, sworn to him that she would never break his heart.

She had lied.

For Hermione, it was like waking up from a terrible drug-induced existence. Suddenly, she was able to stand on the outside of the situation and look in on herself. She didn't like what she saw. She wasn't sure what woke her up. Was it Bellatrix telling her all what Severus went through after the divorce, or was it Severus, telling her that her miscarriage might have been intentional?

Gods, what had she done to him? What had she done to them? Jacob was gone, but Severus was still alive, and he had needed her care as much as her child did. Someone may have murdered their child, but Hermione herself had murdered their relationship just as effectively as if she had plunged a knife into Severus' heart.

Hermione lay there in the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling as self-recrimination piled on her chest, making it hard for her to breathe. But it wasn't her chest that was heavy, it was her heart.

It was feeling again.

* * *

Early the next morning, Severus was awakened by furious banging on his office door. He quickly grabbed his robe, tied it, picked up his wand, strode through his study, opened the wall and walked into his office. Whoever was knocking on the door was hitting it so hard, it was shuddering. Scowling, Severus unwarded the door and yanked it open, prepared to light into the cretin who dared pound on it so loudly.

To his surprise he saw a distraught Argus Filch standing there, his eyes full of tears.

"They've stolen him. They've dug him up and taken him, Professor. Your boy. Your sweet boy," the craggy caretaker gasped. His scraggly hair was plastered to his head as if he had run all the way to the dungeons. He had, though he ached terribly because of it.

Severus looked at the caretaker. He had noticed his son's grave was well maintained, but never knew how much the old squib had invested in caring for Jacob and his final resting place. Severus' eyes softened for a moment.

"He hasn't been taken, Argus. He's been exhumed," Severus said to the distraught squib.

Argus looked at him wide eyed.

"Exhumed, Professor?" the caretaker asked. It was clear to see he was relieved that someone knew what happened to the child's remains.

"Yes. I took him last night. I …I had to test his remains," Severus said. He hesitated…wondering if he should tell the squib what he found out. Filch clearly cared about Jacob, for what reason the Potions Master didn't know. He decided to tell him.

"His loss was no accident, Argus. Someone caused Hermione to miscarry," Severus said to him.

Filch's face screwed up horribly.

"Murder!" he hissed, "Murder of the worst kind, Professor. Do you know who did it? Do you need help hunting the monster down? Give him to me. Give him to me and I will make him suffer."

Severus was taken aback by the venom in Argus' declaration. It was well known the squib kept an assortment of chains and whips. The Potions Master didn't doubt the man knew how to torture. That he was willing to punish someone for his child's death moved Severus.

"No Argus, I don't know yet. But I intend to find out…there will be retribution for Jacob's death, I assure you. Come in," Severus said, stepping aside.

Argus hesitated. He had never been invited into the dour wizard's abode before. But he entered warily. Severus turned and walked toward the lab.

"Come with me, Argus," he said.

The old caretaker followed Severus into the lab, looking at his equipment with interest until his rheumy old eyes fell on the covered casket.

"There's the boy," he said gently.

Severus looked at the covered casket quietly for a moment, swallowing hard several times before he spoke, his voice sounding tight.

"Argus, please take him back for me and lay him to rest. He's told me all he can," Severus said.

"Aye, Professor. I will lay him down gently to be disturbed no more," Argus said to the Potions Master, who swallowed hard again at the caretaker's words.

Argue gently lifted the casket, the cloth intact and left the lab.

Severus stood there, not able to follow.

"My son," he said hoarsely, "I will avenge you."

* * *

After breakfast, Severus visited the Headmaster and told him of his findings.

Albus' face darkened.

"The Mordres Potion has been banned for decades. Only a very talented Potions Master could brew such a horrible elixir," the Headmaster said.

"Yes," Severus agreed, "But of the qualified Masters I know, not one of them would risk disbarment or Azkaban. I was thinking that a former Potions Master might agree to brew such a potion if the price were right. I was hoping, Albus…"

"That I would requisition the records of all former Potions Masters released before Hermione became pregnant," Albus finished for him.

"Precisely," Severus said, glad that the Headmaster was so quick on the uptake.

"I will contact the Ministry immediately," Albus said, "And will get the names and residences of all who fall into that category. Then we will pay each of them a little visit."

Severus looked at him.

"We, Headmaster?" Severus repeated.

"Yes, we…along with a few doses of veritaserum. I am tired of sitting on my ass while evil goes on around me, Severus. You are like a son to me. Jacob would have been equally as dear, especially since he represented something good in your life, something wonderful that you never dreamed you'd have. A son. And someone took him from you. I cannot begin to tell you my rage over this murderous act. I will not let you face this alone. You have been alone for too long now in your service. You will not be alone in your search for justice for your son."

The two wizards sat in silence for a moment. Then Dumbledore's blue eyes seemed to glow with an inner power.

"And if Voldemort's scaled hands have manipulated any part of this horror, then I will go with you to his very throne room to punish him, Severus," the old wizard said.

Suddenly the air was full of magic swirling about both wizards, their hair lifted by the force of it. Albus had taken a wizard's oath to enter Voldemort's stronghold if need be.

"Albus!" Severus protested.

The wizard held up his hand to silence him.

"It is too late for protests, Severus. What's done is done. I am with you now," the Headmaster said evenly.

Severus fell silent. There was nothing he could do but accept Albus' help. He was an ally and an army. Most likely he would need him if Voldemort were indeed at the bottom of Jacob's murder. Then he thought of the other reason he was here.

"Headmaster, do you have a small pensieve? I need one to collect Hermione's memories of the day she miscarried.

Albus rose.

"Certainly Severus," he said, walking over to his bookshelf and waving his hand.

A false front opened, revealing a niche. Inside the niche were pensieves stacked inside each other, alternating from largest to the smallest, which was the size of a thimble. After rattling through them, Albus chose one that could fit easily in Severus' palm.

He walked over and handed the small blue bowl to the Potions Master.

"There you go, Severus. I sincerely hope it helps," he said as the dark wizard rose from his chair.

The two men looked at each other, then Albus gave him a fatherly embrace.

"I don't envy you telling Hermione what you've discovered, Severus. She is going to be livid. I've always believed there was something more to that little witch. Something that remains untapped and undiscovered. You have to keep her calm, Severus. Don't let her go off half-brewed," Albus warned.

"Yes, Headmaster. Hermione is very volatile. She showed me that much the last years of our marriage," Severus said a bit bitterly.

Albus looked at Severus kindly.

"It may well be, Severus, that this news may make her rethink her actions of the past few years. Pain, grief and resentment can cloud a person's perceptions, make them act in a way that is not their true character. You yourself experienced that for many years before you found her. You know what it is to lash out when you find yourself in a situation you can't control. With Hermione, you were happy my boy. She brought out the best in you."

"The loss of Jacob caused a loss of herself…her heart was hurt and closed up in order not to feel any more hurt, then she drove away any and everything that could possibly hurt her further. Unfortunately, that was you, Severus. Love can hurt most of all and in her state of mind, she removed it to protect herself. That was something she could control, something she was not helpless against."

"Finding out that Jacob's death was not an accident will take away that sense of helplessness…as horrible as it is…it will put her on the path to healing, after the rage and need for revenge have been met. But the question is, Severus, if you see a change in her, will you help her heal? Will you be healed with her? If there is an inkling of hope that you both can be restored, will you try for happiness again?"

Severus looked at him.

"I don't know if I can, Albus. I just don't know," he replied.

Albus looked at him, his blue eyes twinkling again.

"At least you didn't say no, my boy. And that is encouraging," he said, patting him on his shoulder. "Now go, take that pensieve to Hermione…oh, and before you go, here is the increase in the Order's ranks. Give that to Voldemort. It will please him to know how many Order members there are."

Albus handed Severus a slip of parchment off his desk, stamped with the official Order emblem. It would look as if Severus stole it off the Headmaster's very desk.

"Just tell him you took it when my back was turned. He'll love the treachery," Albus suggested.

"Yes Headmaster. Thank you," Severus said appreciatively, heading for the floo.

He stepped through, and Albus returned to his desk.

Fawkes, who had been watching their exchange, let out a powerful trumpet, startling the Headmaster.

Albus turned to the Phoenix, his bushy eyebrows raised almost to his scalp.

"A war cry, Fawkes? I haven't heard that song from you since I battled Grindelwald back in forty-five. Perhaps I'd better focus on a contingency plan for the Dark Lord, just in case," he said thoughtfully.

The Phoenix bobbed his head and trilled in agreement.

Dumbledore considered.

"A gift is appropriate, I think," he mused.

* * *

Severus returned to his rooms and immediately donned his deatheater gear. Placing the pensieve and parchment in his robes pocket, he apparated to the Dark Lord's stronghold.

He appeared with a clap of thunder to find the Dark Lord quite busily engaged on his throne with Bellatrix. The naked witch was inverted with her head in his lap, sucking his undulating organ with gusto and moaning as the Dark Lord used his snake-like tongue to taste and explore her. Several deatheaters lined the wall, watching them and masturbating. Gods, what a den of iniquity.

Severus knelt where he stood with his eyes on the floor and waited until they finished.

He didn't have long to wait as Bellatrix's shrill cry of climax rent the throne room, followed by the Dark Lord's high-pitched groan as he released, rounded off by the grunts of ejaculating deatheaters.

Severus was thoroughly disgusted. The entire throne room smelled like a barnyard.

The Dark Lord released Bella, and the witch kissed him, then unashamedly picked up her robes and pulled them on, fastening them only up to where her cleavage showed, as Voldemort panted and recovered slowly, his tool at rest on his thigh, sated. He began to button his robes.

Bellatrix strolled down the stairs of the throne and walked very close to Severus.

"See what you are missing, wizard?" she asked.

Severus scowled. He didn't want anything the Dark Lord had defiled.

Fully dressed now, the Dark Lord noticed Severus.

"Rise and approach Severus," he said.

"Thank you my Lord," Severus replied, reaching in his pocket and withdrawing the parchment as he walked toward the throne. Once before it, he again knelt, his eyes lowered, offering the parchment.

"What is that, Severus?" the Dark Lord asked him.

"The latest number of the ranks of the Order, my Lord," he said.

"Arise and give it to me, my faithful servant," Voldemort said.

Severus rose and stepped up the steps a ways to pass the parchment to his Lord, then returned to the floor. Voldemort scanned the parchment, then looked at Severus sharply.

"This has the seal of the Order on it Severus. How did you acquire an official Order document?" he asked the Potions Master, his forked tongue flicking out with interest.

"I was in the Headmaster's office, and took it off his desk when his back was turned," Severus replied.

The Dark Lord smiled.

"Albus has always been a careless fool. Still, my deatheaters outnumber Order members two to one. Thank you for this, Severus," Voldemort said, pleased. Then his eyes narrowed.

"I suppose you wish to see the mudblood?" he asked Severus.

"I would like to, my Lord," Severus replied.

"I hope you are not thinking of forgiving her Severus. It would be unseemly, considering the dishonor she's caused you. In my opinion you still owe her a sound beating," he hissed.

"Forgiveness, nor anything else has crossed my mind concerning the witch, my Lord. It is simply curiosity as to how she is coping that makes me want to see her. I hope she is suffering anguish," Severus replied.

The Potions Master made sure to keep his occulmency walls well shut, allowing only thoughts and memories of classes and other insignificant happenings to show through. It wouldn't do to let the Dark Lord know of his discovery concerning his son.

Voldemort nodded with approval.

"Yes, I imagine knowing she was in dire straits would be satisfying to you, Severus. She has not been taken by my deatheaters yet, though there have been several attempts this morning. She has the most amazing spell she uses. A burst of power from her wand tip that sends balls of energy to match the exact number of attackers, effectively cutting them down. If it caused death it would be quite an effective weapon for the Final Battle. I am considering asking her to adapt it for me. Out of fairness, I won't give the spell to my deatheaters to use on her. Currently, they are not allowed to use magic to try to take her. If she pleases me…it will remain that way. You may go, Severus," the Dark Lord said, waving his hand at the wizard dismissively.

Severus bowed.

"Thank you my Lord," he said.

As he approached the door leading to Hermione's room, three deatheaters walked up to him.

The Potions Master stopped and glared at them for blocking his way.

"Severus, lure the mudblood out of her room for us. We'll do any service for you that you want in exchange," one randy wizard said to him.

Severus pushed him out of the way in irritation. The wizard bristled and started to charge his retreating back, when he companion stopped him.

"He's back in form. He'll beat you senseless if you go for him," the deatheater advised his angry comrade. "We'll get her…just be patient. Without the other witches, she doesn't stand a chance."

The deatheaters departed to find other things to occupy their time.

* * *

Severus knocked on Hermione's door.

"Get the fuck out of here!" Hermione called out.

Severus smirked despite himself.

"Hermione, it's Severus," he said through the door in a loud voice.

He heard her whisper a spell, then he opened the door and entered to find the tip of her wand in his face. She lowered it immediately.

"Better safe than raped," she said, shrugging, then sitting down on her bed.

Severus looked at her a moment, then closed the door behind him. Hermione quickly warded the door and put a silencing spell on it. She looked up at him.

Severus immediately noticed something different about the witch. It wasn't anything he could see. It was more like something he could feel…as if she were breathing again. It was very strange. He sat down on the bed beside her as she looked at him attentively. He took a deep breath.

"It is as I feared. The miscarriage was no accident," he said to the witch, expecting an explosion. But Hermione simply looked at him. "It was a potion called Mordres, an illegal substance…"

"Used for abortions," Hermione finished for him. "It comes in liquid and powdered form, the powdered form being most potent. It is virtually undetectable, having no taste or odor. It can be consumed, breathed in or absorbed through damp skin. And it was used to kill my baby. Our baby."

"Yes," Severus agreed, still waiting for the outburst of rage.

It still didn't come. Instead, Hermione's eyes took on a deadly intensity.

"They killed my baby and caused me to ruin my marriage," she said in a low voice, seeming to stare at the loo. "They took away the two things that mattered most in my life. My child and my husband."

Severus looked at her, and scowled.

"If I remember correctly, it was no "they" who handed me the divorce papers. It was you and only you, Hermione," he said coldly.

Hermione turned her amber eyes on him. They looked like they used to look, not full of resentment.

"I know," she said softly.

Severus almost expected her to add "I'm sorry," but she didn't. Instead her eyes hardened.

"We need to find out who brewed the potion," she said, her voice controlled, "then who had it made or who purchased it. Most likely a disbarred Potions Master who needed money created it. All we need is a list of wizards released from Azkaban before we married. We can work from there."

Severus looked at her, an eyebrow arched. Gods, the witch was smart. It had taken him some time to figure out what to do. It took her less than a minute.

"Albus is already on it. He has taken a Wizard's Oath to help me if Voldemort is involved," the Potions Master said.

Hermione nodded.

Severus couldn't get over how calm she appeared, though her rage was palpable.

"Do you have the pensieve?" she asked.

"Yes," he replied taking the small blue bowl out of his pocket.

Hermione took it from him and raised her wand to her head. She concentrated a moment. Severus could see emotions washing over her, though she tried to hide them. Finally she tapped the wand to her head and drew out one, then two silver strands, depositing them in the pensive. Her thoughts swirled in the small bowl, glinting. She tapped the pensieve, sealing it so the thoughts wouldn't spill, then handed it back to Severus.

"Study it, Severus. Find out who poisoned me and killed our son," she said looking at him, her eyes shining in a frightening way. It was as if inside…she had gone mad. "Find them and let me kill them," she hissed. "I wish I could kill them a thousand times."

Severus stared at her, uncomfortable at the controlled rage. This was not Hermione's normal reaction.

"Are you all right?" he asked her worriedly. He was afraid she would explode after he left and be killed by Voldemort.

She looked at him.

"No, I am not all right. I've just discovered my child was murdered in my womb. That there is someone responsible for his death who is just walking about freely. I am not all right, Severus. I am as far from all right as I can be. But I won't tip our hand. I will bide my time, then get my revenge somehow," she said evenly…only the slightest quaver in her voice betraying the depth of her emotion.

Well, he was glad of that at least, though he was still disturbed by her calm.

"I'm going to need to talk to you, Severus. After all this is over," she said, not looking at him but staring at the loo again. "There are things I need to say to you, provided I survive to say them. I will give up my life to take our child's murderer to Hell," she said softly.

Then she turned her eyes on him.

"Go, Severus," she said, "Go find out what happened."

Then she fell silent, her breasts rising and falling from restraining herself. Severus didn't like it. He still didn't trust her to maintain control.

"Are you sure you can handle this? I can do a small obliviate…" he offered.

"No. I'll be fine. Find out who poisoned me," she said flatly.

Severus rose reluctantly, then headed for the door.

He unwarded and opened it, then turned to her…but before he could speak, Hermione said, "I know. Ward the door."

Severus closed his mouth and left her room, placing the pensieve in his robes pocket.

He hoped she didn't blow.

* * *

Professor Pomona Sprout, the Herbology teacher, huffed and puffed as Argus led her with his quick, arthritic stride to the small garden area. She looked at the marker and turned to Filch.

"Jacob Dante Snape?" she asked. "I didn't know about this, Argus."

Filch shook his head.

"No, Professor. You wouldn't have. It was a private ceremony. Only the parents and the Headmaster were in attendance. You see, the boy passed on before he was born."

Pomona's eyes glistened.

"How sad," she said sympathetically. She noticed the overturned earth on the small grave. "Was it recent?"

Filch realized that she noticed the earth on the grave was new. He didn't want to tell her the child had been exhumed. That would lead to too many questions, and the Herbology teacher was a terrible gossip.

"No, Professor. It's been about four years. I turn the dirt over sometimes to keep it looking pretty here."

Pomona looked around.

"You certainly do keep it pretty, Argus. It must comfort his parents very much," she said.

"I do it for the boy. He never got a chance to see the world, and if he had he probably would have seen the ugliness. I keep it pretty here for him. Show him it can be beautiful, too," the caretaker said.

The Herbology teacher's eyes glistened a bit at this.

"And you want to know if I can make this garden self-maintaining?" she asked.

"Yes," Argus said, "I'm thinking of taking a long trip, and I hate to think it will not be tended. Hagrid could probably do it…but he's not consistent. I just want to know Jacob will keep a nice place when I'm gone."

Pomona wondered where the old squib was planning to go, but didn't ask.

"I'll be happy to set the site up to perpetually care for itself. It's wonderful that you care so much, Argus," she said kindly.

Filch gave her a perfectly horrendous smile, then did a kind of scrabbly, painful looking, spidery dance. The witch winced a little.

"Thank you, Professor," he said gratefully, his bent form bowing as best his could.

He was bent because his back hurt him from the running he had done earlier to inform the Potions Master of his son's disappearance. As a matter of fact, Argus was always in some kind of pain. Even pain potions didn't help much anymore, he had taken so many over the years. He was an old man, still working, still chasing and cleaning up after muddleheaded, rule-breaking students. He had no rest. And he was tired…very, very tired.

"You're welcome, Argus," the witch replied, rolling up her voluminous sleeves and extracting her wand.

Argus watched her work, a sense of peace dropping over him. The boy would always be surrounded by beauty.

* * *

Argus returned to his rooms, locked his door, then walked over to the wall. He slid back a portion of it, revealing a wall safe. He slowly turned the dial of the combination lock and opened it. The little safe was chock full of galleons. He had very little to spend them on.

The squib scooped a large amount of coins into a bag, tied it and closed his safe, sealing it behind the panel again. He then picked up two port keys. He could use these particular port keys because they were magical objects that worked by pressing a button, and didn't require him to be magical in order to use them. They worked on squibs and/or muggles. Part of a line of magical devices Fred and George Weasley developed to tap into the resources of the squib community.

The first port key would take him to Diagon Alley and back to Hogwarts. The second port key would take him to muggle London, then back to his point of origin. He could use them on the castle grounds. Filch picked up a leather pouch with a long shoulder strap that looked as if he'd had it all his life. He put the sack of galleons in it, and one of the port keys. He held the other, which was a functional cigarette lighter in his hand and pressed the button. The lighter glowed blue and he was gone.

Argus arrived at Diagon Alley feeling nauseous and disoriented. He hated port key travel, but it was the quickest way to get around. He appeared right in front of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, just where he wanted to be. The old caretaker pushed the door to the shop open and walked right in and up to the counter. He banged on it snarkily and an irritated looking clerk appeared from the back room, frowning at the squib.

"I need to see Fred and George," Argus said, scowling at the clerk.

"Yes sir," the clerk responded a bit rudely, walking back into the office. After a moment he reappeared. "Go right in."

Filch stalked around the counter and walked into the office of Fred and George Weasley. All kinds of certificates and awards hung haphazardly on the back wall of the office. Two desks sat in opposite corners of the room, flanked by file cabinets. All kinds of gadgets lay scattered about…presumably products they were working on There was a long table in the middle of the room, surrounded by chairs. On the opposite side of the table sat Fred and George Weasley, looking absolutely delighted.

"Filch! Good to see your smiling face again," George said to the scowling squib as he sat down slowly across from them.

"Yes. You're like a bit of sunshine in the midst of storm, you are," Fred agreed.

Both started laughing hysterically. Filch grimaced even more.

"Stop your foolishness you two," Filch growled at them, reaching into his pouch, withdrawing the sack of galleons and plunking it down on the table. "I got business to conduct."

Both Fred and George sobered immediately. If anything got the twin's attention, it was the clink of galleons.

"What can we do for you, Mr. Filch?" Fred asked, his manners much improved by the appearance of coinage.

"I need something special. Something a squib can use. If anyone has such a thing, it would be you two mischievous bastards. I need a port key that can track a wizard and take me to him. One I can operate," he said, glaring at the twins.

Fred and George looked at each other.

"Why do you need it?" George asked. He hoped Filch wasn't planning on killing anybody.

Filch seemed to realize that he had to be relatively honest to get their cooperation.

"I want to help somebody who probably wouldn't let me help him otherwise," he replied evasively.

The twins' eyebrows went up. Filch actually helping somebody? Amazing.

"Ah, a good deed then," Fred said.

"Selfless service," George intoned.

"Sounds like a worthy exploit," Fred said, rising behind the table and hopping over it using one hand. "I think we can fix you up, Mr. Filch…but it's going to cost you."

"Of course it is," Argus growled.

Fred smirked at him.

"I'll be right back," Fred said, leaving the office.

George folded his hands and looked at the squib. He looked to be almost two hundred years old. How the hell did he keep going?

"So, care to give me any details about this good deed you're going to do, Filch?" he asked hopefully. Filch was the meanest, orneriest squib he knew. The fact that he contained the redeeming quality of helpfulness came as quite a surprise.

"No, I don't care to, and I don't want my business with you repeated," Filch snarled at him.

George threw up his hands.

"Mr. Filch, you wound me. All transactions at Weasley Wizarding Wheezes are confidential. We keep out of trouble that way," he said amicably.

"Well you'd both better keep your mouths shut tight about this," Filch said, scowling at him.

Fred returned to the office, hopped back over the desk, skimming Argus in the process and sat down. He opened his palm, revealing a flattened disk with a glowing jewel on one end and a red and green button on top.

"This is from our "Secret Surveillance" line. It's called "The Track-a-Port". Something we've been working on for use by the Ministry Aurors. You simply point the jewel at the person you wish to track and press the red button. The signature is captured and converted to a port key destination point. The button will turn blue if you've got him right. When you want to locate him, you simply press the green button and it works like a port key. You land about twenty feet from your target. Of course, you will be seen…but we're working on adding a disillusionment spell."

Filch looked at the object. It was exactly what he needed.

"How much?" he asked.

Fred and George looked at Filch.

"Twenty thousand galleons," they both said together.

Filch nearly had a heart attack. He clutched his chest and both wizards looked alarmed.

"Twenty thousand galleons? I don't have that kind of money," the squib gasped.

Actually, Filch did have it. He just didn't want to spend it.

"Here now, Filch, hold on a minute. Don't go dying on us. We aren't going to try to charge you that," George said desperately as Fred quickly poured the gasping squib a glass of never-ending ice water from a pitcher on the table and slid it over to him.

Filch drank a bit of it, and looked calmer. The two proprietors sighed in relief. A customer dying during a transaction would be very bad for business.

"Listen, this has never been tested in the field before…so we are willing to give it to you for that sack of galleons and a written statement of how well it works to use in its marketing. You willing to do that, Mr. Filch?"

Filch did the calculations in his head. The sack contained about three hundred galleons. It was quite a markdown.

"Yes, I'll do it," he griped, though he was quite pleased with the arrangement.

Fred slid the device over to Filch, while George grabbed the sack.

"There you go, Mr. Filch. Don't get yourself in trouble with it now," George said, looking into the sack and smiling broadly.

Filch rose, grunted and left the office.

Fred watched him go, then looked at George.

"Charming chap, that Filch," he said sarcastically.

"Yep. Almost as sweet as he was when running us down in Hogwarts," George replied.

They both laughed, happy to have helped the old grouch out.

He had given them loads of entertainment at Hogwarts, after all.

* * *

Next Argus portkeyed to a rather unsavory section of muggle London. He walked a few blocks, then turned down a dirty alley. Doors lined it. He walked five doors down to a steel reinforced one, and knocked in a specific rhythm. In a moment, there was a clicking sound, and a small rectangular window opened. Two blue eyes looked out warily.

"Filch!" a voice exclaimed.

The window snapped shut, and a number of clicks sounded, then the door swung back heavily, opening on to a dark alley. A tall, rugged muggle in a white wife-beater, camouflage pants, laced up leather boots with three days worth of stubble on his chin smiled at the squib broadly.

"Hey old man. It's been a while," he said by way of greeting.

Filch nodded and stepped inside. He turned to watch the muggle reset the assorted locking devices. Then the man turned and walked up the hall into a small lighted room. It contained a table and two chairs. Some maps were on the wall, but there wasn't much else.

"What do you need today, Filch? Some more hollow points?" the muggle asked him.

Filch nodded.

"I need a small smelting machine too. Something I can use to seal them this time," the caretaker said.

Filch kept all manner of weapons. Including guns. He would fire them off in the Forbidden Forest late at night for entertainment. He had never used a gun on anything living, though he was a crack shot.

"Jacketed hollow point all right?" the muggle asked him.

Filch nodded.

"How many rounds?" he asked.

"I think I'll only be needing one. Maybe two," Filch said.

"Two it is," the muggle said, rising and exiting the room through another steel door.

Filch sat there quietly. He had been using this gun dealer for about ten years now. Guns were banned in England, though the ban didn't appear to have lessened the crime rate. Criminals still had them, and those intent on assault and murder simply used other instruments to cause death. It was a good effort any way. Filch had guns simply because he liked them.

Up to this point.

The muggle returned with two boxes of hollow points, and a clear jar of what looked like clay.

"What's that?" Filch asked, pointing at the jar.

"A moldable plastic that hardens to a steel-like strength. You can cap the bullets with this. Better than machining them. Faster and simpler too. You putting something in them?" the muggle asked curiously.

Filch nodded.

The muggle looked at him speculatively.

"You know, you don't talk much Filch. That's what I like about you. You've been coming here over ten years and I still don't know anything more than your name. Makes me feel safe," the muggle smiled at him.

"I don't even know that much about you," Filch replied, reaching into his pouch, taking out an old wallet and giving the muggle some pound notes. "And don't want to."

The muggle laughed as Filch put his purchases into his pouch.

"That's fine by me, Filch. Good doing business with you," he said rising.

Filch rose and followed the muggle back down the hall, watched him go through the locks and exited. He walked several feet then took out his port key and with a press, returned to Hogwarts.

He was almost ready.

* * *

A/N: This is the end of Part 1. There will be three more parts to this story. Thanks for reading. 


	2. You Promised It Would Be Forever Part 2

You Promised It Would Be Forever Part 2

Severus returned to Hogwarts with the pensieve, still feeling rattled by Hermione's reaction to learning the loss of their son was intentional. There was no explosion, no outpouring of emotion, though she did say she would give up her life in order to get revenge. Hopefully no one but the perpetrators of the crime would be dying when the time came.

Severus took the pensieve out of his robes pocket, then removed his deatheater garb and put it away. He picked up the pensieve and dressed in his shirt and trousers, the dark wizard walked into his study then over to his desk in the corner. The Potions Master sat down and placed the pensieve on the desk before him. Focusing, he stared down into it until he was pulled in, tumbling end over end until he dropped neatly to his feet on a busy sidewalk in downtown Hogsmeade.

Severus started as a chubby witch loaded down with packages passed right through him. Then he looked around until he saw Hermione staring up at a window. He strode over to her and saw she was looking at maternity clothing. He followed her into the store and watched carefully as she shopped, checking prices and fabrics as she did so. She brought several blouses and pants, charging them to his account and left the store. Severus saw nothing out of the ordinary. He followed her to her next destination, which was a shoe store.

He watched as she looked longingly at a pair of three-inch red pumps. Her eyes got a little heated and Severus knew the witch was thinking about parading around in those heels naked in front of him. If she had, it would have been a very short parade. Severus had loved the way Hermione looked in heels and would have wasted no time getting her on her back and those heels in the air. Those had been happy times for them. He looked around to see if possibly anyone was following his wife, but saw no one. A clerk came and Hermione sat down. Severus sat down next to her watching as the clerk knelt in front of her and removed her shoes.

The young wizard was quite handsome, and quite flirtatious, which was why he worked in a witch's shoe store. He exclaimed over her tiny feet and gave her a little foot massage which made Hermione's eyes almost roll up in her head. Severus's nostrils flared at this display rather jealously. This was the Hermione who still loved him. A wizard was flirting with her and she was enjoying it. It was harmless…the wizard was only after a sale, but if Severus had witnessed this, the wizard would have gotten a cracked head, and Hermione would have been walking gap-legged for a week. Still, he watched the wizard. Hermione's feet had to be slightly damp and the Mordres potion could be absorbed through them.

The clerk left and returned with several pairs of comfortable, sensible shoes and the red pumps. He wolf whistled at Hermione's feet when he put them on her and she stood up, making the witch blush and Severus' nostrils flare again. The wizard was unconscionable. Finally Hermione selected two pair of the comfortable shoes and passed on the pumps. She was pregnant, and though she loved the shoes, it would be a waste of galleons at this time. The wizard looked a bit disappointed that he hadn't made a large sale with the witch, and Severus smirked with satisfaction at his discomfiture. But the wizard had done nothing out of the ordinary. Hermione didn't get poisoned here.

Hermione paid for her purchase, and left the store. Severus followed her closely as she walked the sidewalk, watching to see if anyone bumped into her or touched her in any manner…but again he saw nothing out of the ordinary.

Hermione walked into the Three Broomsticks. Severus went immediately on point. This was where the poison could have been slipped into her food. Rosmerta seated her, and Hermione ordered a ham sandwich with grape jelly and tomatoes. The innkeeper looked at her oddly for a moment and Hermione patted her lower belly, then realization hit the blonde proprietor and she grinned from ear to ear. The witch congratulated Hermione and said she would make her sandwich personally. Severus could not follow Rosmerta into the kitchen. Once the doors opened anything behind them would be a blank because Hermione did not go in there. The kitchen was not part of her memory.

But Rosmerta was very unlikely to have poisoned Hermione. If the innkeeper made the sandwich herself then it would have been fine. The pumpkin juice was another story, but it was more than likely Rosmerta fixed the drink as well. Severus sat down and watched his wife bite down into the sandwich, a look of bliss crossing her face as the flavors mixed. He studied that look…it was very similar to the one she wore when he would first enter her. The Potions Master felt a throb both in his trousers and in his chest. He hadn't counted on the emotions his visit in the pensieve would arouse in him. As he looked at his ex-wife, he felt an extreme sense of loss. He had to shake it off. He had to be observant.

Hermione finished her lunch, paid her bill, picked up her packages and left the inn. By the look on her face, she was tired now and ready to go home. Severus followed her to the apparation point, which was very busy and had two close lines of people waiting to use it. Hermione got in line and waited as wizards and witches moved into the point and apparated. A tall, unfamiliar blonde woman appeared in the line next to her. The woman brought her hand to her mouth and sneezed, right on Hermione, who looked at her frowning slightly. The woman said she was sorry, and the line moved forward.

Severus scowled, halted the pensieve and rewound it. He watched the sneeze again, and his face grew black. He walked closer and slowed the pensieve down. As the woman brought her hand to her face, she flattened her palm. Severus could see a small amount of fine powder in it. When the woman sneezed, the powder flew into Hermione's face. She had inhaled it. As the woman lowered her hand, Severus vocally snarled with rage as he looked at it. The nails were painted black and had small silver skulls on each.

Bellatrix LeStrange. Bellatrix had poisoned his wife and killed his child. She had to be given the order to do so by the Dark Lord himself. It meant death to attack another deatheater's family without Voldemort's permission.

Severus withdrew from the pensieve, his dark eyes full of death. Bellatrix and Voldemort had indeed killed his baby. Bellatrix and Voldemort would pay. They would pay.

* * *

Argus Filch was hovering around the dungeon corridor when Severus exited it, looking murderous. Filch knew automatically that the Potions Master had found out who killed his boy. Terrible as Severus looked, Argus still stopped him. The wizard looked at the old caretaker as if he couldn't see who he was at first…and then he focused. His expression was murderous.

"Did you find out, Professor? Did you find out who murdered our boy?" Argus asked, unaware that he had used the term "our boy" in his excitement.

"Voldemort," Severus hissed. Then he strode off without another word.

Argus quickly pulled out the Track-a-Port and captured Severus' signature as he walked away. The button turned blue just as Fred said it would. The Potions Master was now a port key destination. Filch could find him anywhere.

The caretaker's face turned uglier than it already was as he absorbed what the dark wizard had said. So the Dark Lord was behind the death of that innocent child. The Filch had suspected it all along. He knew Severus was mixed up with the despot, doing some work for Albus. Filch had gleaned some bits of information about the Dark Lord, by sneaking around and listening in on conversations. He knew for example that he was kept alive by a potion made out of venom from his pet king cobra. To Filch, that made the wizard more animal than man.

"That snake. That filthy snake. Killing that poor boy in the womb. He's got to pay," the caretaker said, walking crookedly toward his rooms.

His legs had been hurting him for a while now. Poppy said it was bone degeneration. She treated him as much as she could, but Filch was old and even magic couldn't do much when nature was in force. His body was slowly disintegrating, and he pushed himself too hard around the castle. When Albus suggested retirement, Filch refused, saying he wouldn't know what to do with himself, and Hogwarts was all that was keeping him alive. So the Headmaster relented. He hired a young helper for Filch, but the grouchy caretaker had driven him off by the end of the week, browbeating him and calling him names, finally striking him with stick across the back for faulty plantings.

The truth was the young wizard was quite good. Too good. Filch was territorial. He didn't want the competition.

"He's trying to move me out," Filch grumbled about Albus when he first brought the boy to him.

The kid never had a chance.

Filch entered his room, still cursing Voldemort. He locked the door securely, then went to his cupboard and took out the hollow point bullets and the plastic clay.

"That wizard's a filthy snake. I know what protects from snakes," Filch muttered as he walked over to his cooler and took out a small box he had delivered from America. It had to be kept cold. He sat the box down and opened it, looking at the small bottles of clear liquid inside.

He took out a bottle, set it on the table, and returned the box to the cooler. He opened a drawer and took out a small eyedropper and set it on the table, then dumped out the hollow points and stood them up on their ends in a neat line. He picked up the jar of moldable plastic and squinted as he read the directions. It was a quick drying substance. He would have to work fast. He only had to roll it between his palms to make it malleable.

The caretaker eyed the bullets and figured out about how much plastic he would need to seal them. He would make a little indentation on the top, so the point of the bullet was still concave. It would still do great damage, even capped.

Filch opened the bottle of liquid, dipped the dropper in and carefully filled each cavity of each bullet. He had to get another bottle because they were very small. When finished, he put the unused liquid back in the cooler, then returned to the table, opened the jar of plastic and hurriedly warmed it between his hands. He carefully covered the tip of each bullet with a thin sheet of the plastic, tapping it down with his gnarled fingertip. There. He'd done it.

The caretaker walked over to another drawer and took out a locked metal box. He fished in his pocket and took out a huge key ring full of keys. He went through them quickly, located the key he needed and opened the box. His rheumy eyes narrowed appreciatively as he removed the gun.

It was a nine-millimeter Glock 17 with fixed sights. His baby. Filch called it "The Stinger"

Also in the box was a manual, two magazines, a magazine loader, a plastic cleaning rod, a nylon bore brush, and a cable lock with two keys. Filch lovingly set the gun down, picked up a magazine and filled it with ten rounds. He did the same to the other. He got up and placed the magazines in the cooler. Then he took out the cleaning rod and bore brush, and set about getting the gun in tiptop condition for use.

"I might not be able to cast a spell, but I can shoot the topknot off a troll at a hundred paces. There's more than one way to kill a baby-killing snake of a wizard," he muttered to himself. "I'm going to make sure Snape has some other options than magic."

* * *

Severus entered the Headmaster's office. Albus looked up at him, and with one glance knew that the Potions Master had discovered his child's murderer.

"It was Bellatrix and Voldemort," the Potions Master hissed.

"With the Dark Lord's permission Bella poisoned Hermione in Hogsmeade as she stood in line waiting to apparate home after shopping. Bella pretended to sneeze and blew the powder in Hermione's face, then walked away. She was glamoured, but I recognized the bitch's fingernails. Neither of them can live another day, Headmaster," he snarled.

Severus was trembling with hatred. Death was all he could see. Albus' eyes were blazing with their own dark fire, but his voice was deceptively calm.

"Yes, Severus. Jacob must be avenged…but we must wait until morning. Night is when most of the deatheaters are at his stronghold. Early in the day there won't be that many. We need the element of surprise. Have you thought of how you wish to bring about his demise? A spell perhaps?" the Headmaster asked Severus.

The Potions Master's eyes glinted.

"No. Decapitation," he said darkly. "I want to cleave his fucking head from his body with my own hands. Then I want to gut Bella."

Albus looked at the wizard. Normally he abhorred such blatant violence, but in this case…he'd make an exception.

"If I can get close enough to hold Voldemort, Severus, I can cast a nullification spell that will temporarily drain his powers, making him vulnerable. You will have ten seconds to accomplish the deed, but will have to cut around me," the old wizard said, his blue eyes glittering with the bloodlust as well.

"You'll have to duck, Headmaster," Severus replied, a sinister look on his face. "Ten seconds is more than enough. It will only take one swing."

Albus nodded.

"I have a plan to get me into the stronghold and close enough to him. We can use his greed against him…"

Severus leaned forward.

"Tell me the plan, Headmaster," he said with a growl.

Albus told him. Severus nodded.

"We'll only have one chance to get this right, Severus," Albus said, his blue eye narrowed behind his spectacles.

"One chance is all I'll need, Albus. Just one chance to avenge my son," the Potions Master replied in a deadly voice.

Albus looked at him.

"Are you going to tell Hermione?" he asked the Potions Master.

Severus shook his head.

"No. I don't trust her to last the night with the knowledge. She might go after them herself. It's better that we do the deed and leave her out of it, Headmaster. I will not go to the stronghold tonight. She will think I am still studying the pensieve," Severus said.

Albus nodded.

"Still, she may be angry she didn't have a chance to wreak her own revenge," the Headmaster said.

Severus looked at him solemnly.

"She will just have to be satisfied that Voldemort and Bellatrix paid for their crimes," he responded.

Yes, his ex-wife would be livid, but she'd recover.

It was better than her getting killed.

* * *

Argus Filch was lurking around the dungeon corridors again when Severus returned. The Potions Master wasn't using the floo because he had the urge to walk. He had too much pent-up anger to expend. He saw the bent caretaker standing in the dungeon hall and stopped.

"Professor, I want to help you take revenge for Jacob," Argus said sincerely, his twisted face even more twisted by the strong emotion he felt.

Severus studied the man. He was grateful he wanted to help him, but he was a squib. He could do nothing against the Dark Lord.

"Argus, I appreciate your offer, but Albus and I have a plan. It will be over tomorrow morning. Jacob will be avenged," he said to the squib.

"There's more than one way to kill a wizard, Professor," Filch said, trying to get Severus to accept his help.

"We have it covered, Argus. We don't need your assistance. I know you care about what happened to my son, and I greatly appreciate it…but you are a squib, Argus, and a squib cannot face magic. You would be a hindrance. I'm sorry," Severus said kindly but firmly. The wizard then walked around him and headed for his rooms.

Filch squinted after him.

"A squib eh? A hindrance? We'll see about that tomorrow morning, Professor," he said, rubbing his pocket and feeling the Track-a-Port's shape. "I'd follow you to Hell itself to avenge that boy."

Argus returned to his room, poured himself a glass of port and sat down at his small table. A parchment and quill lay there. Filch downed the port and looked at the glass, smacking his lips.

"I think I'll treat myself to another one of those in a minute," he said to himself.

He set the glass aside, then pulled the parchment close to him and picked up the quill. He stared at the parchment a moment…then began to write.

_The Last Will and Testament of Argus Odysseus Filch…_

* * *

After breakfast the next morning, Severus went up to Albus' office. He found the Headmaster finishing off a list of instructions to follow in case he shouldn't return. Upon his death, the castle itself would recognize Minerva McGonagall as the rightful Headmistress and transport her directly to his office.

"Are you ready then, my boy?" Albus asked him, placing one hand on Severus' shoulder and squeezing it encouragingly.

"Yes sir," Severus replied, his eyes hard with determination.

"For Jacob, then," the Headmaster said soberly.

"For my son," Severus replied.

They put their plan into action.

* * *

Severus returned to his rooms, opened the secret panel and donned his deatheater robes. On his bed lay his short sword. This was what he intended to use to take the head of Voldemort. He slipped the sword inside his robes, tucking it into his trousers. He pulled on his half-mask, raised his hood and took a deep breath.

"For Jacob," he said once more, then apparated to the Dark Lord's stronghold.

If Severus had hoped to accomplish his revenge without Hermione's presence, he was out of luck. As soon as he apparated, he saw the witch standing outside the door that led to her room, staring down at several fallen deatheaters she had just taken out.

Voldemort was laughing and praising the witch from his throne.

"Well done, Hermione," he chortled.

On the other side of the room, three female deatheaters, including Bellatrix, stared at Hermione hatefully. They were jealous the Dark Lord was praising her.

"I'm going to take that mudblood down a notch or two soon," Bella seethed.

She didn't like Voldemort showing any attention to other females. Usually when he did, he ended up shagging them eventually. Bella hated to admit it, but the mudblood was attractive in her own lowborn way. She was very petite and her amber eyes were lovely and expressive. Her wild, curling hair was like a mane and longer than her own. And though small, she was curvaceous, though she didn't strut her wares like Bella did.

Severus looked around the throne room. Despite Hermione's presence he would still enact their plan. He knelt as Voldemort's red eyes fell on him.

"Severus! I missed you yesterday. Arise and approach my throne," the Dark Lord said.

"Thank you my Lord," Severus intoned, his heart brimming with hatred. He forced the emotion from his mind. Voldemort might feel it. He stood, lowered his hood, removed his mask and approached the throne. The Potions Master then knelt again reaching into his pocket and extracting a small box.

Hermione was watching her ex-husband closely, wondering if he had found out anything as he extended what looked like a gift to the Dark Lord.

"What is this, Severus?" Voldemort asked him, looking at the box.

"A simple gift, my Lord. A tribute if you will," Severus replied, keeping his eyes on the floor. If Voldemort looked at them, he would see the malice the Potions Master felt. His entire insides felt as if they were on fire, he wanted to kill the wizard so badly.

"A tribute. Ah yes, I am worthy of such things and more. Give it here, my faithful servant. The Dark Lord favors you," Voldemort said, holding out his thin hand.

Severus stepped up on the first step leading to the throne. It took all his strength not to throw himself on the wizard. Slowly he stepped back down and knelt again.

Voldemort looked at the box for a moment, then opened it. A beautiful platinum ring sat in the box, set with two sapphires and the band consisting of several phoenixes beak to tail.

Voldemort recognized this ring. It was the Headmaster's. His servant had stolen it and made a gift of it to him.

"Isn't this Albus' ring?" he asked Severus.

The Potions Master's face drew into a black scowl.

"No. It is Albus himself," he replied darkly as the ring flashed with a blinding light and Albus Dumbledore himself appeared, dropping and grasping Voldemort around the knees as the red-eyed wizard screamed in rage and sent out a summons before he was completely nullified and unable to move.

Hermione looked on, shocked, then drew her wand and ran forward.

Severus drew his sword and rushed up the throne steps.

"You and Bellatrix killed my child! Here is your reward, my Lord!" Severus bellowed, swinging his sword viciously and slicing through the Dark Lord's neck.

Black blood spurted fountained upward as the severed head tumbled to the floor. Voldemort's body spasmed wildly as Albus released his legs. Both he and Severus were covered in the foul fluid spurting from the wizard's body.

Bellatrix screamed and rushed forward, drawing her wand.

"You killed him! You killed the Dark Lord you traitorous scum!" she screamed at Severus. Bellatrix was hit with a weak stunner and thrown back. Hermione had cast it. She didn't want the witch unconscious when she took her revenge.

"And you killed my child!" Hermione retorted, her eyes beginning to glow with hatred as deatheaters began to apparate in.

"Shit, he managed a summons," Severus said as the deatheaters began to attack. Albus threw up a shield around the throne. Despite what was believed, the Avada Kedavra curse could be blocked, if only for a short while.

Hermione was shooting blasts of energy, taking out ten deatheaters at a time. She had raised a protective shield around herself…the one she had designed for the Aurors that could block hexes but allow the user to send their own. She quickly created a wall however, and dove behind it. Her shield couldn't block the Avada Kedavra curse.

The three were so busy battling the deatheaters, not one of them noticed what was happening to Voldemort's body. The black blood was skittering up the throne and into the severed neck at an amazing speed. The disembodied head on the floor began to move, being drawn as if by a magnet back to the body. It floated upward and affixed itself to the neck, the flesh mending. The red eyes ignited and the Dark Lord looked at the distracted wizards, stood, then threw out his hands, three dark tendrils extending from them, each wrapping around the necks of Albus, Severus and even Hermione, lifting them into the air gasping and clutching ineffectively at the magic nooses.

"You thought to destroy me, the Dark Lord, with a simple stroke of a sword, Severus? I am almost immortal you fool! Such barbaric methods, as satisfyingly bloody as they are will not kill me! Yes, I killed that bastard son of yours. Marriage did not legitimize such a creature…born from a muggle-born. It was necessary and right. The child should never have been born and I made sure it wasn't."

The three struggled uselessly as Voldemort shook them in the air. Bellatrix walked up to Severus smiling.

"It was a pleasure to kill your child, Severus," she said to him, an evil smile on her face. Then she strolled over to Hermione, looking up at the choking witch. "A real pleasure."

Even choking Hermione glared down at the witch with hatred.

Voldemort looked at Albus.

"And a gift. I've waited years for this moment you old fool. Your sentiment has led to your death. With you gone, my victory over the wizarding world is assured. Prepare to die…all of you!" Voldemort said, preparing to tighten the nooses and finish all of them.

Suddenly, there was a flash, and Argus Filch stood before the throne, his Glock zeroed in on Voldemort. He didn't hesitate as the Dark Lord looked at him with a "Who the fuck is this?" expression on his face.

"This is for Jacob!" Filch cried, pulling the trigger and unloading two bullets straight into Voldemort's forehead, throwing him back into the throne where he slumped, black blood running down his face.

Hermione, Albus and Severus immediately dropped to the floor, gasping

"You old fool. You cannot kill the Dark Lord with muggle weapons!" Bellatrix cried at Filch who turned his gun on her. "Avada Kedavra!" she cried, bathing the squib in the dread green light.

Filch pulled the trigger of his Glock 17 reflexively as the light of death enveloped him, the bullet hitting Bellatrix squarely in the chest and ripping through her heart, killing the witch instantly. They both fell at the same time.

On the throne, Voldemort's blood was attempting to crawl back into the gaping hole in his head, but was stopped by something…something that was repelling it. The bullets had collapsed upon impact, spilling their contents into the Dark Lord's body. The clear liquid now coursed through the wizard's veins, interacting with them and drying them out, killing his blood and shriveling his organs. Voldemort shuddered horribly on the throne, his skin darkening as his body writhed, sucking in on itself, drying out, mummifying. Finally he stopped moving, looking for all the world like a human-shaped raisin, dressed up in golden robes.

All the deatheaters were staring at their dead Lord in shock. Voldemort wasn't coming back from this one. Hermione took advantage of their stunned inaction.

The witch quickly cast a shield on Albus and Severus who were staring at the Dark Lord's body in amazement, then shouted, "Pulsus Infinitus!"

Bursts of energy shot out of her wand, each seeking out and blasting every deatheater in the room into unconsciousness.

As they fell, thunder cracks of apparition sounded as Aurors appeared. When Voldemort died, his shielding around the stronghold died with him. When Bellatrix cast the Killing Curse, the signature was identified by the Ministry and the Aurors quickly apparated to the source of it. They checked and bound the deatheaters, some of them staring with awe at the shriveled form on the throne.

Hermione released Albus and Severus, who stood up and brushed themselves off.

An Auror walked over to Filch's body and picked up the gun. He inspected the barrel, his finger on the trigger.

"Put that down!" Hermione screamed at him in horror, startling the Auror and the gun went off.

Luckily, the barrel had fallen to the side and the bullet missed his head. Hermione ran over to the frightened wizard and snatched the gun away.

"This is a muggle instrument of death," she said to him, holding the gun barrel down. "You almost killed yourself."

The Auror paled, then walked off unsteadily to continue his duties.

Hermione looked down at Argus, who had a relaxed, peaceful look on his face. The old squib had single-handedly saved the entire wizarding world as well as avenged "his boy."

Albus and Severus walked over and looked down on the body as well.

"I'm afraid Filch has stolen our glory, Severus," the old wizard said, his blue eyes glistening. "and usurped your revenge."

Severus looked down on the grizzled features of the caretaker.

"He loved Jacob. He died to avenge him. My son's murderers are dead, and I am satisfied. A pity I never knew just how much of a friend he really was. As to the glory…he's welcome to it. His whole life was spent in thankless service behind the scenes…a squib in a wizard's world. He wasn't appreciated in life, but will be in death. The gods bless him," the Potions Master said quietly.

Hermione looked down on Filch, tears streaming down her face.

"Thank you, Argus," she whispered, "Now I know Jacob has someone who'll take care of him on the other side."

The three stood there a long while as the Aurors began apparating away with the remaining deatheaters. They would get a statement from the three later.

It was easy to see they were mourning a great man.

* * *

After giving their statements to the Ministry, Hermione, Albus and Severus returned to Hogwarts with Argus' body and left him in the care of a shocked Poppy, who placed him in the morgue. The morticians would arrive and prepare him for his journey to eternity.

The three immediately went to Argus' small, dreary room. Hermione almost was overcome by tears when she saw how the man had lived in such small cramped quarters. A number of gardening tools rested against the wall, a few books and muggle gadgets rested on the counter

"He never wanted anything more than this," Albus said, looking over at the small twin-sized bed in the corner of the room. "He kept his whips, chains and other muggle weapons he collected locked in the lower regions of the castle…the sub-dungeons. He loved those things."

Severus looked around the small room solemnly, his black eyes falling on a small door. He walked over to it and opened it to see a small bathroom with a basin, loo and bathtub. The squib didn't even have a shower. He closed the door and returned to the center of the cramped quarters.

Hermione opened the rusted cooler, looked in it and removed a small white box, and a magazine clip full of bullets. She brought them over to the table and set them down. She picked up one of the small bottles of clear liquid and studied it.

"Potions?" Severus asked her, walking up to his ex-wife and looking over her shoulder at the small bottles

She shook her head.

"No, not potions. King Cobra anti-venom," she said softly. "Filch knew that Voldemort used snake venom to stay alive. The best way to protect yourself from the bite of a snake is with snake venom. I doubt if Filch knew it would destroy Voldemort, but he might have thought it could protect us from him. He put the anti-venom inside the bullets and capped them off."

"Brilliant," Severus said quietly as he looked down at the bottles. Then his black eyes fell on a piece of parchment. He picked it up.

"The Last Will and Testament of Argus Odysseus Filch," he read out loud.

Both Albus and Hermione drew closer so they could see the document.

Severus' eyes shifted as he read the will.

"He named Albus as his executor and requests that in the event of his death, he be buried alongside Jacob Dante Snape, so he can keep him company in the garden forever," Severus said, his eyes blinking rapidly for a moment.

"Of course," Hermione said, her bottom lip trembling as she fought back tears.

"He also requests that half of his money be placed in a fund in Jacob's name to be used to help abandoned children, and the other half invested in the development of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes line of squib-related items and the residuals also be directed to the fund, so there will always be money available. He says he was abandoned as a child and knows how hard it is to be alone in the world."

Severus' eyes widened as he read the amount of galleons Filch had stored away at Gringotts.

"Gods, he was loaded," Hermione said, her eyes wide as she too read the amount.

Albus nodded.

"Argus had worked here at Hogwarts since he was fourteen years old. He rarely spent any of his wages, but put them away. He had it tough as a child and learned to hang on to what he had," Albus said, his eyes glistening. "But once a year he would give me between two and five hundred galleons to be used to help provide books and wands for the poorest of our students," Albus said.

"Filch?" Hermione said, "I thought he hated the students."

Albus' eyes twinkled

"Argus hated the way the students behaved, not the students themselves. No doubt he would have beaten them for their own good if he had the opportunity and the authority. He believed whole-heartedly in the "Spare the whip, Spoil the child," adage. Actually, one year he did have the authority to punish students. It was the best-behaved year in the history of Hogwarts. But his methods were deemed too barbaric, so his authority was taken away. Hanging students upside down by their ankles and beating the soles of their feet with supple willow switches just wasn't appropriate, although effective."

Hermione couldn't help grinning, as horrible as it was. She remembered Filch yelling at students about how he wished he could handle them like in the old days. He was excellent at terrorizing the youngsters, but suffered a lot of pranks because he was a squib.

Albus took the will from Severus, rolled it up and put it in his robes pocket. He looked around the room once more.

"I think I will just seal this off," he said in a soft voice, "I can't stand the idea of clearing it out."

Hermione and Severus both nodded. Actually, the room Argus Filch occupied would be considered a kind of landmark and have historical value.

"Maybe you should leave it open, Headmaster. Argus Filch died a hero. People would want to see where he lived and how he lived. You could have a tour maybe, and charge a small fee which could be directed to Jacob's fund," she suggested as she returned the venom and gun magazine to the cooler.

"A good thought, Hermione," Albus said as he headed for the door. "I will consider it."

Both Albus and Hermione exited Filch's room. Severus lowered the torch and glanced around it one more time.

"Rest in peace, Argus," he said, then exited, warding the door behind him.

* * *

The public funeral of Argus Odysseus Filch was quite an event. Classes were cancelled for a week, and Argus' body laid out in state in the Great Hall for two days in order to accommodate all the mourners and curiosity seekers. The hall was filled with flowers and wreaths, and thousands of visitors streamed through from morning till evening to look upon the man who had killed the greatest threat to the wizarding world, Lord Voldemort. Most were surprised he was so old and so ugly.

The morticians had done their best, and Filch's hair was soft instead of straggly but there wasn't much they could do to improve his face. They had initially put a glamour on him to make him look better, but Hermione raged about it being disrespectful, so they removed it under threat of being hexed right out of business by the tiny, angry witch.

To the right of the coffin was a large, perfectly horrendous photo of Argus, holding Mrs. Norris, glaring maliciously and making threatening motions, sometimes startling those who passed it by.

It was the best photo Hermione could find of the old caretaker. As horrible as it was, Hermione was certain he would have been perfectly delighted with it. The squib had enjoyed frightening people after all. Argus had been worse than Severus in his way.

Argus was awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class medal posthumously. He was the first squib in wizarding history to receive this honor. . He was also given a Gold Medal, and the illustrious Medal for Magical Merit for his use of anti-venom to bring down the Dark Lord. While the anti-venom itself was not magical, it overcame dark magic…so it was decided the squib deserved the honor. Filch would have been quite pleased to know he had received a magic-based award. All of Filch's awards were accepted by Albus Dumbledore and displayed prominently in the Main Hall.

The newspapers were all frustrated with their attempts at reporting the life of Argus Filch, which was far from exciting. Reporters looked for people to interview about him in a positive light, but all they got were stories about how crotchety and bad-tempered he was. It was difficult to paint a noble picture of the squib's 's life. They went with the "dependable, hard-working and trustworthy squib" angle and focused primarily on his courageous take down of the Dark Lord, appearing out of nowhere and gunning him down, saving the Headmaster, Severus and Hermione as well as the entire wizarding world. It was an exciting account and left no doubt in anyone's mind that the squib was deserving of every honor.

* * *

Hermione, Severus, Albus and Hagrid stood in the small garden. It was a rare sunny day, with birds singing, bees buzzing and flowers in bloom. They all looked down on the large mound of fresh earth, beneath which the body of Argus Filch lay alongside "his boy" Jacob Dante Snape. They were together now, and would be for eternity.

Tears ran freely from Hermione's eyes as she looked at first one grave, then the other. Hagrid, shovel on his shoulder, sobbed openly, his grizzly beard soaked through with tears. Severus looked somber, as did Albus.

"Well, Argus is at peace now, buried on the grounds of the home he loved, next to the child he loved. He'll be honored throughout the wizarding world forever. He will never be forgotten," Albus said turning towards Hermione and Severus. "Now we must be about the business of living…and loving," he added, his eyes twinkling. He began to walk back toward the castle.

Severus and Hermione stood there a moment more.

"He's been avenged, Severus," Hermione said softly, looking down at Jacob's tiny grave. "Filch gave up his life for Jacob. He was a very brave and caring man. No one ever knew."

"They know now, Hermione," Severus said, his black eyes looking at the marble marker at the head of Filch's grave.

It read, "Argus Odysseus Filch, Defeater of Lord Voldemort, Savior of the Wizarding World and Beloved Guardian of Jacob Dante Snape."

"They know now," the Potions Master reiterated.

He began to walk back toward the castle, expecting Hermione to follow. But she stood over the graves unmoving. Severus turned and looked at her. He knew Hermione would stand there for hours if he didn't bring her along. He walked back to the witch.

"Come on, Hermione. They are together. They will both be fine," he said softly, grasping her by her arm.

Hermione turned and looked at him, her eyes full of tears. Suddenly she clung to the wizard, sobbing as if her heart would break.

Severus wasn't sure what he should do as his ex-wife wrapped her arms around him and cried. To just stand there seemed too cold, but to embrace her would be inappropriate…wouldn't it? He looked down at her. Hermione's cheek was pressed against his chest, her eyes closed, tears streaming down her face, clinging to him as if she would never let him go.

Severus sighed and against his better judgment, wrapped his long arms around her, and gently caressed her hair as she sobbed, rocking her slowly like a child until she cried herself out.

As he held her, the Potions Master couldn't help but notice she still fit perfectly in his arms.

* * *

Bellatrix LeStrange's body was claimed from the Ministry by her family, and interred in an undisclosed location.

Lord Voldemort's body was placed on display in the Ministry museum, heavily guarded and warded. Vast amounts of galleons were collected and deposited into a fund to help the families who had lost loved ones to the Dark Lord's reign.

Dumbledore found that there was only one disbarred Potions Master who was freed from Azkaban in the seven years preceding the marriage of Hermione and Severus. His name was Proboor Unkton. He had been disbarred and sent to Azkaban for providing illegal potions to deatheaters. He was caught in a Ministry sting, where an Auror posed as a deatheater, the Dark Mark tattooed on his arm convincingly.

Unkton ran a small, selective apocathery shop in a corner of Knockturn Alley, one that supplied rare herbs and ingredients. His shop did not advertise and his clientele was less than top of the line. Most found out about his shop through word of mouth and he was selective as to whom he did business with. He required each customer to have an account with him, and charged a ten thousand galleon processing fee. This was unheard of, but people paid.

Unkton was a short, fat bald wizard with small, narrow eyes and an expression of constant discontent. He had been quite wealthy when arrested, and all his funds had been seized. He only had a quarter of what he was originally worth now, and although he was still rich, he was dissatisfied. He made galleons any underhanded way he could.

Unkton kept the door to his shop warded securely until he could pull back the curtain and peek out to see who was knocking. Imagine his shock when the door was blasted open and a furious Albus Dumbledore strode in, grasped him by his robes and with surprising strength yanked him over the counter and pulled him close to his bearded face.

"Mordres potion," Albus snarled at the wizard. The Headmaster's blue eyes weren't twinkling, they were blazing. "Did you sell anyone Mordres potion four years ago? Tell me you blackguard!"

Albus shook the wizard until his teeth rattled.

"That's illegal. I wouldn't sell that," Unkton wheezed.

Albus had such a grip on his robes, his throat was constricted.

Albus looked at him darkly, then gripped his throat with one hand and squeezed, forcing Unkton's mouth open. The wizard then pulled a flask out of his pocket, flipped the top open with his thumb and poured the contents into the wizard's gullet, tilting his head back and releasing the pressure on his neck so he swallowed.

Albus released him as the wizard's eyes began to glaze. He slumped back against the counter. The Headmaster looked at Unkton with a scowl. Veritaserum took a minute or two to go into effect. He waited, his eyes locked on the fat wizard angrily. Then he began to interrogate him.

"Now let's try this again, Unkton. Did you make or sell Mordres potion four or five years ago?" Albus questioned the wizard.

"Yes," the wizard replied hollowly.

"To whom? To whom did you sell it?' Albus demanded.

"To a woman. A deatheater. She had a working Mark," the wizard intoned.

"What did she look like?" Albus asked.

"I don't know. She was always hooded, though her breasts were always exposed. She had beautiful pale cleavage," Unkton replied, a slight smile on his face for a moment before he became expressionless again.

Albus nodded. That sounded like Bellatrix. That witch could never keep her tits covered.

"What else can you tell me about her? Think!" Albus demanded.

Unkton stood there for several moments.

"Her hands. She had long, pale hands with long black nails. There were skulls on them," the wizard said.

That cinched it. He had sold the potion to Bellatrix LeStrange. Albus' face was black and his hand spasmed, he was so tempted to blast the unconscionable wizard to bits.

"That potion you sold that witch was used to kill the child of a couple very near and dear to my heart, Unkton. You deserve to die for your part in his demise. Luckily for you, I am law abiding, relatively speaking…"

Albus cast a binding spell on the wizard. But instead of rope, he used a muggle device called "barbed wire." Unkton screamed as the metal barbs cut into his skin through his robes.

"I am going to give the Ministry a pensieve of your confession. The Aurors will be here for you soon," Albus said, "You will most likely live out the rest of your life in Azkaban. At least you will live. That wasn't an option for Jacob."

Albus left the groaning wizard propped against the counter, spots of blood seeping through his robes. When the Aurors picked Unkton up, he was nearly dead from loss of blood. They had a time getting the barbed wire off him. It was charmed and had to be removed by hand.

Albus was not a wizard to be fucked with. Now everyone who was involved in the death of Jacob had been brought to justice.

* * *

Severus returned to Hogwarts, and Hermione returned to her house in Little Hangelton, and her job at the Ministry. At first she was treated like a celebrity, but it quickly faded as her Department head, Gregor Gregorian once again began to covet her discoveries. The description of her Pulsus spell in the newspapers had angered him. It was a powerful spell, but everyone knew she created it, so he could claim no credit for it. Imagine, an adjustable spell that could send out any number of targeted blasts you asked for. It was an amazing bit of magic.

Several weeks later, Hermione created some improvements in the one-way shield, a built in targeted repelling charm that would bounce hexes back to their point of origin, which was the wizard who fired it. It didn't matter if the wizard had moved or not. The hex would find him. When she brought the paperwork in, her name was already filled out in all the appropriate spots. She had no intentions on letting Gregorian claim this spell. The Department Head was outraged at her audacity.

"Hermione, I have already explained to you that you are too low level to claim…" he began, red-faced.

"That's a bunch of bullshit, Gregorian and you know it. You've been claiming my spells for more than two years now, and I'm sick of it. You either give me credit or I'm walking!" Hermione said, scowling fiercely at the Department Head.

Gregorian turned red.

"You're threatening me with quitting Hermione? How dare you. I can fill your spot in less than a day! You think yourself more important than you really are," he declared.

Inwardly, he was nervous. Hermione's spells were what kept their budget large. She was also the reason he was so respected…her spells made him seem more skilled than what he was in Spells Making. But he didn't want to give the muggle-born witch any ground.

"And what will you do for money, Hermione? You are all alone. If you walk out of here I will put a black mark on your employment history. A black mark from the Ministry has devastating effects. No one will hire you. Not even the sex spells sector," he gloated.

That ought to pull her up short.

"Are you blackmailing me, Gregor?" Hermione hissed, her eyes narrowing.

The Department Head looked at her evenly.

"I am simply telling you what the consequences will be if you quit your job here," he said evenly, "Now if I were you, Hermione, I'd go back to the lab and get to work."

Gregor began to slide the parchment with the spell information towards him. Hermione snatched it out of his hands.

"I'm out of here," she spat, storming from Gregor's office, taking the spell with her.

Gregor's face went white. Shit. She was leaving.

He jumped up and followed her to her lab. Hermione began throwing things into a box.

"Hermione, you're making a huge mistake," Gregor said desperately, "Think about what you're doing. You're going to be unemployable in your field."

"You are stealing all my work, Gregor, and claiming it for your own. You even got a fucking award for one of my spells, you selfish bastard," Hermione seethed.

Gregor froze. Hermione had cursed at him. That was grounds for instant termination. That would look even worse on her record.

"You're fired, Hermione! Fired!" he yelled at her, turning and leaving the lab.

"You can't fire me, I already quit!" she shouted back at him, reducing the box and shoving it in her pocket. Then she scourgified the entire lab, walked over to the file cabinet and removed all the spells she had been working on in theory and stuck those in her pockets as well. Then she stalked out. Other employees stuck their heads out the doors and watched her go. Most weren't surprised at her leaving, only surprised that it took her this long. Most were of the opinion she had no backbone. But after the Voldemort incident, they decided she was just "long-suffering."

Gregor watched through the window as Hermione stalked by his office. The witch stopped and looked at him with narrowed eyes, then made a strange gesture with the middle finger of her right hand, then left the building.

Gregor had a feeling he had just been terribly insulted.

* * *

Severus' life had returned to normal. He was back to terrorizing his students and spending quiet nights marking parchments and finding solace in firewhiskey. He had torched his deatheater robes. Now that he was no longer a spy for the Order, he had a lot of spare time on his hands.

He hadn't seen his ex-wife in a month. After Filch's interment, she had returned to Little Hangelton without making any mention of talking to him as she said she would. He had been very interested to hear what she had to say. He believed it was about the divorce and the situation that led up to it.

Severus wasn't ready to forgive her, and doubted if he would really ever be. Hermione had hurt him deeper than anyone had ever hurt him. Even the tortures of the Dark Lord couldn't compare to the ache that still remained in his heart because of the witch. What was worse, was that he sometimes dreamed of her, passionate and wanting him. Dreamed that he was taking her over and over and she loved him. It was painful when he awoke alone in his bedroom at Hogwarts. So very painful.

Tonight he had consumed four stiff firewhiskeys and had a bit of a glow on. He retired to bed, falling instantly asleep. How long he had slept, he wasn't sure. But a voice awakened him.

"Father? Father!"

Severus started and rolled over. His black eyes went wide as he looked down at the bottom of his bed. A little boy was sitting on it, looking at him. He was pale, black-haired and amber-eyed, with a semi-large but handsome nose.

"Father, where's Mother? Mother should be here," the little boy said. He looked to be about five years old.

Severus rubbed his eyes.

"Jacob?" he said, his throat tight.

"Where's Mother, Father? She should be here," the little boy said again, his face sad.

"She's…she's not here," the Potions Master replied, sitting up…expecting the image of his son to disappear. He didn't

"She should be," Jacob said, his eyes glistening. His eyes were so much like Hermione's. "You should be with her, Father. Then everything would be good again. Then I could be happy."

Severus didn't know what to say. Suddenly another form materialized out of the darkness. It was Argus. He put a gnarled arm around the boy.

"You've got to do something, Professor," the old caretaker said, as he looked at Jacob with love in his rheumy eyes. "Our boy's not happy with you two. It's a miserable thing to be unhappy in Eternity."

Then both faded away.

Severus awoke with a start and sat up in the bed, staring down at the bottom of it, pushing his hair out of his eyes. Gods, he had been dreaming…but it seemed so lucid. So real. Jacob looked to be about the age he would have been if he had lived.

The Potions Master blinked for a moment, then laid back down, his hands behind his head and staring up at the ceiling. Jacob had come to him in a dream.

Severus didn't really believe in dreams, though he thought there might be an afterlife, simply because existence would be a waste if it didn't continue, if all the experiences garnered and lessons learned were for nothing. Nature wasted nothing. There had to be a purpose for all this.

Jacob was such a fine looking boy in his dream, and Filch looked every bit himself.

"She should be here," the boy had said, "Everything would be good again. I could be happy."

Severus thought of this. If his son had lived, and he and Hermione had divorced then the child would have been unhappy. If there were indeed an afterlife, then most likely their divorce would have the same effect on the child.

Severus frowned slightly.

He knew in the muggle world, people believed children were no reason to stay married if the marriage was miserable. Hermione was muggle-born and probably adhered to those beliefs. Love should be the basis of marriage, not children. Children were the issue of marriage. If by some great unlikely miracle he and Hermione managed to mend their broken lives, it couldn't be because of Jacob, it would have to be because there was still love for each other.

"I'm sorry, son," Severus whispered into the night, "Your mother chose to be apart from me. You've picked the wrong parent's conscience to prick. I am as much a victim in this as you are, Jacob. I was torn from your mother much as you were. I wish your happiness could be a strong enough incentive to rewind us back to a time of love, son, but it's not. Much more would be required. Much, much more."

The Potions Master sighed. He knew it was madness talking to a dead child in the dead of night.

But somehow, it didn't feel like madness.

* * *

Hermione tossed and turned in her bed. She had recently moved back into the bedroom she and Severus once occupied. She felt a slew of powerful emotions when she did so, and her first nights there, she found herself reaching out in her sleep for a body that wasn't there.

She had thought maybe Severus would contact her after the death of Voldemort. But he hadn't. Why should he? He wasn't the one who was in the wrong in all this. He hadn't moved himself out or served her with divorce papers. He wasn't the one who refused to reconcile.

She needed to talk to him, to apologize to him. But an apology seemed so unsuitable, so weak. How could a simple "I'm sorry" do anything to ease the pain she had caused the wizard who once loved her so dearly? The truth was Hermione was afraid to face Severus. The truth was she realized she still loved him and wanted him back, and she knew he would refuse her.

This was far different than his refusal of her when she was young and in love with the wizard, before she wore him down. He was cautious then, unwilling to be hurt, unwilling to give his heart. But he had in the end. And what was the result? He was hurt, and his heart was broken.

Now she had to face a proud man whom she had damaged deeply. Whose trust she had destroyed. Whom she had humiliated publicly, and whom she had affected so deeply he lost his will to fight. She had basically told him his love meant nothing to her.

How could she ever repair that kind of damage?

That's why she hadn't contacted him. She loathed herself for how she had acted so selfishly and callously, and she couldn't face the loathing she would see in those dark eyes. Those eyes that had once held so much fire and love for her.

Suddenly a voice roused her. Hermione sat up in her bed.

"Mother? Mother!"

Hermione looked around wildly. Her amber eyes went wide as she looked down at the bottom of her bed. A little boy was sitting on it, looking at her. He was pale, black-haired and amber-eyed, with a semi-large but handsome nose.

"Mother, where's Father? Father should be here," the little boy said. He looked to be about five years old.

Hermione rubbed her eyes and stared at the little boy.

"Jacob?" she said, her voice quavering.

"Where's Father, Mother? He should be here," the little boy said again, his face sad.

"He's not here, Jacob," the witch said in a small voice. She expected the image of her son to disappear. He didn't

"He should be," Jacob said, his eyes glistening. His features were so much like Severus'. "You should be with him, Mother. Then everything would be good again. Then I could be happy."

Hermione didn't know what to say. Suddenly another form materialized out of the darkness. It was Argus. He put a gnarled arm around the boy.

"You've got to do something, Miss," the old caretaker said as he looked at Jacob with love in his rheumy eyes. "Our boy's not happy with you two. It's a miserable thing to be unhappy in Eternity."

Then both faded away.

Hermione woke up with a start, sat up in the bed and stared down at the bottom of it. No one was there. She stared at the empty space, her heart aching.

It was Jacob…and he was so beautiful. Argus was with him just as she had hoped.

The witch stared for a few moments more, then broke down, sobbing hysterically.

Her baby was unhappy.

* * *

Two days later, Minerva McGonagall stepped through the floo into Albus' office, to find the old wizard with parchments spread all over his desk and the tip of a quill in his mouth as he studied them intently. She could see a few of them were budget parchments and there was a Ministry folder as well. Curiously she walked around the desk and stood beside him.

"What's all this, Albus?" she asked, looking over the paperwork.

"I've heard through my sources that Hermione Granger was fired from her position at the Ministry and been blacklisted as well. I have her employee folder here. I'm checking the budget to see if I can create a position here for her at Hogwarts teaching Spell Theory. Now that Filch is gone I have the resources to pay another salary. I have set Professor Sprout to setting up the grounds to be primarily self-maintaining. I would have done it years ago except for Argus," he said. "He took on the additional duties of groundskeeper when Hagrid began teaching the Care of Magical Creatures class."

Minerva picked up Hermione's folder and looked through her paperwork. Her eyebrows rose.

"Albus, Hermione doesn't have the necessary amount of original spells to teach the course. She doesn't have a single spell she's done listed here," Minerva said.

Albus' brow furrowed.

"Yes, I've wondered about that. Hermione's been in the employ of the Ministry for almost three years, and they are very production oriented. If she didn't deliver, she would have been sacked long before now. Hermione is very prolific. Something is very odd here. We can however count her adaptable Pulsus spell. An amazing piece of Spellwork there," the Headmaster said thoughtfully.

"And you are going to pay her a caretaker's salary, Albus? Really," the Transfiguration Professor sniffed.

In reply, Albus picked up a parchment and showed her how much Filch earned each month. Minerva nearly choked.

"He made that much? Albus, how can that be?" Minerva asked, "That is almost a tenured Professor's salary!"

"Argus worked here since he was fourteen, Minerva. There were annual raises. Do the math. Hermione won't make as much as this, but enough to be comfortable, once I can find out what happened to the spells she created for the Ministry," he said.

Minerva looked at Albus.

"Albus, you are meddling again. How do you even know Hermione will want to accept a job at Hogwarts? After all, Severus is here," Minerva said frowning. "and they parted on such bad terms..."

The Headmaster smirked up at the witch, his eyes twinkling.

"Yes. Severus is here. That's exactly what I'm counting on as a major draw, Minerva," he said obliquely.

Minerva gasped at the Headmaster, her mouth drawn into a severe thin line of disapproval.

"Albus, you ARE meddling. The results of this can be devastating!" Minerva said warningly.

"No more devastating than they already are Minerva. You have to admit, things can't get much worse than what has already happened between them," Albus replied sagely.

"I suppose you plan on putting Hermione in the dungeons, next to Severus' rooms?" she asked the smiling wizard.

"Of course," Albus grinned as Minerva shook her head. "I am going to try to arrange an adjoining door if I can too. I just need a good enough reason for installing one."

Minerva simply frowned at him, her boot tapping the stone floor loudly.

"All right, I admit, the adjoining door is a bit much. I wouldn't want to put Severus on point, after all," he said.

"Albus, Severus is going to know you are meddling the moment Hermione moves into those rooms," Minerva responded.

Dumbledore's face grew clouded for a moment, then he brightened.

"Well, I am simply going to have to convince him this is a necessary move, then," the Headmaster said, rising and walking to the floo. He scooped up some floo powder and tossed it into the fireplace.

"Severus' study," he said.

The flames turned green.

"Severus? Severus are you there my boy?" Albus called.

"Yes, Headmaster. What can I do for you?" Severus called back. He was sitting before the fire drinking a cup of strong black coffee.

"I wonder if you might accompany me to the Ministry. I have an inquiry to make of a Department Head and have found it wise to have another ear present. Care to join me?" Albus asked.

There was silence for a moment.

"Yes, Headmaster. At what time do you wish to go?" the Potions Master asked him.

"As soon as you are ready," Albus replied.

"Fine. I will floo to your office directly," the Potions Master said.

"Very good," Albus responded, withdrawing from the floo and looking at Minerva with satisfaction.

The witch rolled her eyes and started for the door.

"I'm leaving. I don't want Severus thinking I am party to this…this…blatant manipulation of his life," Minerva sniffed.

"O ye of little faith," Albus chuckled as the witch strode out the door.

She just made it before the floo turned green and Severus stepped through. Albus turned and smiled broadly at the Potions Master.

"Good morning, Severus," he said, jovially as he surreptiously picked up Hermione's folder from off his desk. Severus looked at all the clutter.

"Looks like you've been busy this morning, Headmaster," he observed.

"Hogwarts' business is never done," Albus replied, "I thought we'd walk to the Main Gates and apparate from there. I want to stretch my legs a bit."

Severus nodded and accompanied him out of the office.

* * *

Gregor Gregorian was caught off guard when a clerk announced he had visitors.

"Tell them to make an appointment," he had told the clerk, who looked quite scandalized.

"One of them is Albus Dumbledore," he said reverently.

Gregor's eyebrows rose. He couldn't very well turn away the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot.

"Give me a moment, then show them in, Fredrick," Gregor said, hurriedly cleaning off his desk and brushing his hair back with his hands.

After a moment or two, Albus and Severus were led into his office. He rose and shook both wizards' hands and asked them to sit down in two comfortable chairs in front of his desk.

"Welcome to my department, Headmaster and…Professor Snape," Gregor said. He had to think a moment to recall Severus' title.

"Thank you, Mr. Gregorian. I am here to make a non-official inquiry about one of your former employees who I am considering hiring," Albus said.

Severus looked at him with interest. A new Professor? Hm.

"I'll be happy to tell you all I know, sir. Who is the former employee?" Gregor asked.

"A Miss Hermione Granger," Albus replied.

Both Gregor's and Severus' eyes widened in surprise. Severus' narrowed slightly as he looked at the Headmaster. What was he playing at?

"Miss Granger was dismissed from her position for insubordination, Headmaster. The witch is quite volatile and does not respect authority. I would not recommend her for any position concerning spell work," he said.

Now Severus' narrowed eyes were on Gregor. Hermione would only have been insubordinate if she believed she was being treated wrongly. Now he was very interested.

"I am quite aware of Miss Granger's nature and skills, Mr. Gregorian. I did not come here for a recommendation. I came here to inquire as to why after three years of employment in the Spells Department, Miss Granger does not have a single original spell to her name?" Albus asked evenly. "I happen to know Miss Granger is a very prolific witch and it's odd that in all this time she has nothing to show for her work. Don't you agree, Severus?"

Severus looked surprised, then nodded, his brows drawing together.

"My ex-wife often worked on projects she was developing for the Ministry at home. There were quite a few if I remember correctly," he said evenly, "I've never known her to start another project before finishing the previous."

The Potions Master scowled slightly at Gregor, who was looking extremely nervous.

"What happened to those spells, Mr. Gregorian?" Albus asked, his blue eyes no longer twinkling.

"Well, Miss Granger was a low-level employee and as such, did not warrant having her name placed on spells developed for the Ministry," he said lamely.

Severus' face was now contorted with rage. They had been taking credit for her spells. This probably added to her frustration when they were still married. Why had she never told him?

"Credit is given to the person who develops and completes the spell. It has never been attributed to the Department as a whole. How else can they get the credits they need to work in the Spell community once they leave the Ministry? Who told you this, Mr. Gregorian?" Albus asked him, his anger plainly showing as he looked at the Department Head with narrowed eyes.

Shit. Gregor had made the rule up himself to take credit for the witch's spells. He had no idea that someone like Albus Dumbledore would be interested in her, particularly since he blacklisted her to avoid inquiries being made.

"It was a rule I developed. It was meant to…"

"It was meant to be a way to steal my wife's work!" Severus exclaimed, bringing his fist sharply down on Gregor's desk, making the wizard jump.

"Who took the credit for her spells?" Severus demanded.

Albus sat back with a half-smirk on his face, watching the Potions Master take the wizard to task over his ex-wife.

"I did," Gregor admitted.

In an instant, Severus had reached over the desk and collared the wizard, dragging him up out of his chair.

"You stole my wife's spells and took the credit for them yourself? I should beat the shit out of you," Severus growled shaking the wizard. "Do you know how what you did affected my wife? My home life? You fucking idiot!"

Albus rose and placed a hand on Severus' shoulder. The Potions Master released the Department Head and threw him back into his chair roughly. He sat back down, glaring at Gregor as if he'd like to beat him to a pulp. And he would.

Albus' eyes glittered at the wizard.

"Mr. Gregor, what you have done is unforgivable. You have stolen another's hard work and used it to make yourself seem more than what you are. I believe I will have to have a full investigation done on your department. Most likely you will be dismissed and blacklisted, sir," Albus said.

"No," Gregor pleaded. "I have a wife and six children, Headmaster. If I lose my position, we will be on the streets. I'll give them back. I'll take my name off of every spell and give her credit for each of them. Hell, I'll give her credit for the spells I have created. Please, Headmaster…don't do this."

Severus looked at him. Gods, six children? Another pack of Weasleys.

Albus looked at him thoughtfully.

"All right, Mr. Gregorian. Because, and only because you have such a large family, I won't report your treachery concerning Miss Granger. I expect her files to reflect her work by this afternoon. And I expect you to restore credit to any of your other employees you have been stealing from. I will have someone come down and check the other employee files as well. Consider yourself lucky, Mr. Gregorian," Albus said, rising.

Severus rose, continuing to glare at the wizard. He had gotten off too easy. If it had been Severus in charge of this inquiry instead of Albus, Gregor, his wife and all six of his squalling brats would have been shaking tins on a street corner someplace.

"I'm sorry, Professor Snape," the man said weakly, "I had no idea…"

"Don't talk to me!" Severus snapped at him. "I owe you an ass-kicking."

The wizard paled. Shit.

"Come Severus," Albus said placatingly.

Severus stalked out the door behind Albus. He looked back at Gregor, his brows drawn together threateningly.

He was going to get that wizard.

As he and Albus walked, the Headmaster said, "Severus, I want to stop by Hermione's house to make her a job offer. I'll understand if you don't want to come…"

"I'll come," Severus said angrily.

The Potions Master had a mind to ask the witch why she never informed him that her spells were being taken from her. He was her husband then. He could have done something to stop it. It was his duty to protect her and she didn't let him. He was furious.

Albus slid his eyes toward the angry Potions Master and grinned.

This was working out even better than he had hoped.

* * *

The Headmaster and Severus apparated to his former home in Little Hangelton. Severus noticed immediately that it wasn't being kept very well at all. The yard was overgrown, and weeds had taken over the little flowerbeds. The brightness of the paint had dulled too. It was as if the house itself was in mourning. He also noticed all the shades were drawn. Odd.

He and Albus walked up to the door and knocked. There was no answer. Albus knocked again. There was still no response.

"Maybe she isn't home," Albus said.

Severus looked at the two newspapers lying on the porch. He picked them up. Yesterday's and today's Daily Prophet. He looked at the house again, then pulled out his wand.

"Alohamora," he said. Just as he suspected, the door wasn't warded and opened.

He strode in, followed by Albus.

The entire house was dark. Not a single shade was lifted. Squinting, Severus looked around the living room. It was a mess. Books and papers everywhere. He walked over to a window and pulled up the shade.

"Put that back down," a tired sounding voice said from someplace in the middle of the room.

Severus and Albus both turned to see Hermione sitting on the couch, Indian-style, in her nightgown. She looked terrible as she held up her hand to shade her eyes against the light.

Severus walked around to every window and raised the shades, flooding the living room with natural light. He turned to look at his ex-wife. Hermione was pale and had dark circles under her eyes. Her skin was dry and her lips badly chapped. She looked like she hadn't showered in a couple of days. Her amber eyes looked at him oddly.

"Severus. Have you come back to haunt me too?" she asked him softly.

"I'm not a ghost, Hermione," he replied, frowning at her.

"Oh," she said, then fell silent.

Albus walked over and sat down on the couch next to the witch. He placed his hand on hers.

"Hermione, why are you sitting in the dark?" he asked her.

"Because there's no light. No light at all. It's all gone out," she said rather hollowly.

Albus looked at Severus worriedly. The Potions Master simply looked at this caricature of the woman he used to know. His face was expressionless.

"What do you mean?" Albus asked her softly.

Hermione turned and looked toward the Headmaster. It seemed as if she were looking right through him as she answered.

"I've lost my child. I've lost my husband. I've lost my job. I've lost everything," she said quietly, "the dark is all I have left. The dark is all I want. Why did you come here? I want to be left alone."

"We have to take her to Poppy, Headmaster," Severus said suddenly. "She's not herself."

"No. I don't want Poppy. What I want is gone…all gone," she said softly. "Please, close the shades, Severus. Close the shades and go. Both of you. Leave me alone. I deserve to be alone."

Albus looked at her. His eyes were glistening.

"No, Hermione. We can't leave you like this. You have to come with us. Severus, go get her robes," Albus said to the Potions Master.

Severus nodded and walked down to Hermione's bedroom. He opened the door and turned up the torches. The room was empty. Empty?

There were no sheets on the bed, nothing on the dresser, her closet was open and empty. His black eyes washed over the room, then paused as he thought of something. Severus turned down the torches, closed the door and walked to his old bedroom. He opened it and turned up the lights.

Yes, Hermione had moved back in. Her clothing hung in the closet, her personal items were on the dresser and the bed was made up.

Her wand lay on the floor beside it. He picked it up and his eyes rested on the bed. They had made so much love between those sheets…when they were happy and in love. He walked over to the closet and took out a robe, then exited the bedroom. He brought the robes to Hermione.

"Stand up," he said commandingly. Hermione looked up at him as if it were her first time seeing him.

"Severus. Have you come back?" she asked him, her eyes shining. "Have you forgiven me for what I've done to you? Do you love me again?"

The Potions Master felt his heart clutch as he looked at her.

"Stand up, Hermione. Let me help you put on your robes. You have to come with us," he said, swallowing, his voice hoarse.

Hermione looked up at him, then rose. Her hair smelled slightly of spoilt milk. Severus slipped the robes over her arms and fastened them. He couldn't help but think of how often he did the reverse.

"Jacob is unhappy," she said, looking at the floor.

Severus started.

"How do you know that?" he asked her, his voice low.

Albus looked at both of them with interest.

"He and Argus told me," she said simply. Then Hermione said something that chilled the Potions Master to the bone.

"I want to be with Jacob," she said.

"Hermione," Albus said softly, "Jacob is dead, my dear."

She looked at the wizard. Tears began to flow from her eyes.

"I know," she said, her voice trembling, "I'm no longer a wife. But I'm still a mother. Jacob needs a mother still."

Severus still held on to her robes. He understood what she meant. He no longer needed a wife. He didn't like where this was going. It sounded as if Hermione were suicidal. She needed help. Now.

"Come on, Hermione. We're going to Hogwarts," he said softly, taking her by her arm and leading her to the door. Albus followed.

"Yes, Hogwarts," Hermione said dreamily, "That's where my baby is…waiting for me…in the garden. Such a beautiful, peaceful garden, Severus."

They exited the house. Albus locked and warded it.

Then they all disapparated.

* * *

"Hermione's had what the muggles popularly call a "nervous breakdown". She's disconnected herself from reality. It often happens when life becomes too much for a person, or they experience something traumatic that they can't handle." Poppy said, emerging from behind the black curtain and addressing Severus and the Headmaster. "She's resting now."

"How do you think this happened, Poppy?" the Potions Master asked her.

"Well, Severus, the symptoms leading up such an occurrence are numerous, and it could be triggered by a combination of the following: a sense of utter fatigue, low energy, little motivation, anxiety, agitation, sleeping too little or too much, a loss of appetite, guilty ruminations and hopelessness," Poppy said, counting the symptoms off on her fingers.

"Will she get better?" he asked, his voice betraying his concern. "What kind of treatment can we give her?"

"I would advise putting her into St. Mungos Psychiatric Ward," Poppy said, looking toward the curtain sadly. "They have more experience than I do with treating this kind of illness."

Severus had never seen anyone come out of that place whole. He didn't want Hermione there. But he was no longer her husband. He didn't have a legal right to say what would happen with her. He knew if he contacted her parents, they would take her out of the magical world completely and she would probably end up taking all kinds of barbaric muggle mood-altering medications, becoming dependent on them. What would such medicines do to her mind? That brilliant mind?

Hermione was no longer his wife, but she was a brilliant witch. It would be a great loss to the wizarding world if she were to lose access to that wonderful, sharp mind of hers. She still had so much to accomplish.

Severus pulled Albus to the side.

"I don't want her to go to St. Mungos, Albus," he said to the old wizard.

Albus looked solemn.

"I don't see how you can stop it, Severus…unless…" the Headmaster paused thoughtfully.

"Unless what, Albus," Severus asked him impatiently.

"Unless you convince her to sign a paper declaring you her guardian," the Headmaster said.

"Guardian?" Severus repeated, his eyes narrowing.

"It's a great responsibility. You will be responsible for every decision concerning her until such time as she can care for herself. But I would have to check with Poppy to see if Hermione is able to make such a decision," Albus said.

Severus hesitated. A guardian for his ex-wife? Gods. Maybe he should just let her go to St. Mungos.

Then he thought about all the wizards and witches wandering around the psychiatric ward with vacant eyes, looking like lost souls in their drab gray gowns. He couldn't imagine Hermione there.

"Check with her, Albus," Severus said.

The Headmaster nodded and walked over to Poppy, who listened, then looked over at Severus, then nodded at Albus. She walked to her office.

"Poppy said that Hermione appears to understand what is being said to her at the moment. If you can explain what you want to do and get her to sign the papers granting you guardianship, then you can make decisions in her best interest," Albus said.

Poppy returned with a parchment, and handed it to Severus, along with a quill.

"Best be about it then, Severus," she said, looking at the wizard rather strangely.

She thought it odd that the wizard would be willing to take on the responsibility of a witch that shamefully divorced him. Maybe there was still something there.

Severus parted the curtain and walked in. Hermione was lying in the bed, her amber eyes turning toward him immediately.

"Severus," she said softly as the wizard drew up a chair and sat near the head of the bed.

He looked down at the witch. Her color was better.

"Hermione, you are very sick," he said to her gently, "You need help."

"I need you," she replied.

Severus did his best to ignore this statement. She didn't know what she was saying.

"Listen Hermione. I want you to sign this paper so I can help you," he said. "It will let me make decisions for you."

Hermione let out a little sad laugh.

"Where were you when I decided to divorce you, Severus? I sure could have used some guidance then," she asked him.

"I was here at Hogwarts," he said, trying not to sound bitter. He tried to get her back on the subject of the guardianship papers.

"If you sign these, Hermione, I can make decisions for you until you are better. Decisions about your health, and your treatment," he said, shaking the parchment at her a bit.

Suddenly it seemed as if her eyes cleared for a moment.

"Why Severus? Why do this?" she asked him.

He looked at her and smirked.

"Temporary insanity?" he asked, not knowing what else to say.

Hermione studied him for a moment, then smiled, and reached for the pen.

With a few flourishes, she was now under the care and guardianship of one Severus Snape, Potions Master and rather torn ex-husband.

This was the first act of trust.

* * *

Hermione remained in the Hogwarts infirmary. Severus had healers come from St. Mungos to evaluate her and give their opinion about the best treatment. This cost a few galleons, but it was better than the psyche ward. This way Severus would know what was going on with the witch.

A rather pretty young medi-witch sat down with the Potions Master to discuss her evaluation of Hermione. The healer was close to Hermione's age and a mother herself, so was deemed the best person to talk to the witch.

The young woman put on a pair of glasses and looked down at her notes, then directed a level gaze at the Potions Master.

"Professor Snape, Miss Granger suffered a miscarriage approximately four years ago. She never went to grief counseling or attended any supportive group meetings after this occurred. She never dealt with her grief properly and this resulted in personality changes brought on by psychological issues all of which were leading towards a complete break from reality. In other words, the witch has not been herself since the loss of her child."

"Recently, Miss Granger had an epiphany where she became lucid again and was able to realize the damage she had done to herself and her husband. This led to powerful, terrible guilt of such immense proportions, she could see no way to correct her wrongs or even to apologize for them. She had divorced her husband during the height of her psychological issues. Though she appeared normal and lucid to the casual observer, she wasn't. When she realized what she'd lost, and what she had done to lose it, that was the true beginning of the breakdown. Then she found out her child had been a victim of the Mordres potion, which added to the psychological strain. A dream of her dead child telling her that he was unhappy and she needed to be with her husband cinched the deal and that was when the break occurred."

"However, the break is not as severe as it could have been. She could have sat in that house for weeks and wasted away. Whoever rescued her did her a great service. What Miss Granger needs now is counseling and therapy. She has to face and address each issue and come to an understanding of it, heal, then move to the next issue until she has found some peace concerning them. The hardest part of this is that she will have to find her husband, explain what happened and hopefully gain his forgiveness. It will bring her closure at least. From what I can tell she still loves him very much, but I imagine that her divorcing him has sufficiently destroyed any interest he had in her. Are you familiar with her husband, Professor Snape?"

He nodded.

"Is he the kind of man who would at least forgive her?" the medi-witch asked.

"He is a rather hard case," Severus replied. "I can't really say."

"Well, let's just hope he's not too hard. She really needs his forgiveness to heal," the medi-witch said, rising and shaking Severus' hand.

"I will send over a list of recommended therapists who will travel," she said.

"Thank you," Severus replied.

The witch paused.

"And to think, if Miss Granger and her husband had just gotten help when they lost their child, they would probably still be happily married," she said, looking back toward the black curtain. "It certainly is sad."

Severus didn't reply to that statement. A thought occurred to him.

"Er…these therapy sessions…will I be allowed to know what is said in them?" Severus asked the witch.

She looked at him speculatively.

"No, all discussions between the therapist and Miss Granger are completely confidential," she replied. "That rule allows the patient to speak freely and honestly."

"I see," Severus said, the wheels already turning.

The Potions Master wanted to know what was going through his ex-wife's head all those years before finally divorcing him. He wanted to understand what made her constantly attack him, what made her stop loving him. But then again, the medi-witch said Hermione still loved her husband very much. Which meant she still loved him.

Severus needed to find a way to listen in on the sessions. Most likely he would find them informative and healing too. But how to do it without discovery?

He needed to pay a visit to Diagon Alley. Severus winced at the thought of it. But if he were going to learn what he desperately needed to know, sacrifices would have to be made.

But being seen entering the wooly domain of Fred and George Weasley? Great Merlin's beard.

Severus sighed.

The gods help him.

* * *

Fred and George were both in the display window, putting out some new products to entice patrons through the door, when Fred nudged his brother.

"Look there, George. What a piece of work that bloke is," Fred said, pointing at a tall hooded person striding through the crowd, most of whom looked terrified.

"Bloody hell, he looks like the blinking Reaper!" George said, grinning from ear to ear. "Right scary he is, dressed like that as warm as it is."

Fred and George watched as the tall hooded wizard passed by their window, then stopped in front of the shop door.

"Blimey, he's coming in here, George!" Fred exclaimed, leaping out the window and rushing to the door. George followed closely behind.

The door opened, and a hooded Severus walked in. People were looking in the window at him. If he was trying to be inconspicuous, he failed miserably.

George peered at him, trying to get a look inside the hood.

"Welcome to Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, sir. What can we help you with today?" Fred said brightly.

"To the back of the store," Severus hissed.

Both Fred and George recognized that hiss immediately.

"Professor?" Fred asked, pulling at the hood a little to see in. Severus batted his hands away and stalked to the back of the store.

Fred and George gleefully followed, holding their stomachs.

Once away from the windows, Severus jerked his hood down and scowled at the grinning pair.

"Why are you all hooded up, Professor?" Fred asked him, still grinning.

"I didn't want to be recognized," Severus replied, still scowling.

"Well, you weren't recognized, Professor, but you were certainly noticed. All you needed was a scythe and you would have had half of Diagon Alley disapparating in terror," George said.

Both he and Fred dissolved into laughter. Severus watched them with irritation until they finished.

"Are you done?" Severus asked snarkily.

Fred and George looked at him.

"Somehow, we doubt it," Fred said, falling out again against his brother, who couldn't breathe he was so choked up about the Professor trying to sneak into their store undetected and failing so miserably. Didn't he used to be a spy?

Severus pulled a bag of galleons out of his pocket and shook it, the coins clinking loudly.

Fred and George sobered immediately.

"Step into our office, Professor," George said, gesturing for Severus to follow Fred who was already walking toward the counter.

Severus drew his hood up as he passed the display window and followed them through the door.

They led him to an office that had two desks in opposite corners, crooked awards hanging on the wall, gadgets all over the place, and a long table with chairs all around it. Fred and George both hopped one-handed over the table, pulled out two chairs and sat down simultaneously.

Severus pulled out a chair, and sat down, lowering his hood. He sat the bag of galleons on the table. Both sets of brown eyes rested on it hungrily, then shifted back to the Potions Master's pale face.

Severus went right into it.

"I need a listening device that is undetectable," he said.

"What will you be listening to?" George asked him, interested.

Severus hesitated.

"A series of conversations," he replied.

"All right. Do you know if these conversations will always occur in the same place, or will the location vary?" Fred questioned him.

Severus looked perplexed.

"I'm…I'm not sure," he admitted.

"Well in that case, we'd better go with the conversations being in different areas, just in case," George said. "Now, will you be in a position to listen to every conversation?"

Hm. Probably not.

"No I won't, though I would hate to miss one," the Potions Master replied.

"So you need a listening device and a recording device. How long will these conversations be?" Fred asked.

Severus wasn't sure, but they couldn't last more than two hours tops.

"I think two hours at most," the dark wizard replied.

"How many conversations?" George asked.

Again, the Potions Master didn't know the answer.

"I'm not sure. It could be hundreds as far as I know," Severus said, beginning to doubt if the twins could help him. There were just too many variables.

"We've got just what you need, Professor," Fred said, hopping back over the table and exiting the room. "Be right back."

George looked at Severus curiously.

"Must be something very important for you to come here, Professor. I seem to remember you saying something like 'I wouldn't be caught dead in a joke shop.' You look like you're breathing quite well for a dead man," the twin grinned at him.

Severus wished he were still in a position to take points from the pair.

"Situations change," Severus said bad-temperedly.

"That they do," George agreed, still grinning.

Gods, did either of these twins ever not grin?

Fred came back, carrying a box and a thin bit of parchment that contained a small patch.

"This is from our Surveillance Line. It's called the 'Speak-Easy Voice Capture Kit.' Very simple to use once you get the patch on your subject," Fred said, holding up the thin parchment package.

George pulled the box over to him, then stood up and slid it closer to Severus, pointing out each part as he explained how it worked.

"Yes, you place the patch in the palm of your hand, sticky side up and find some reason to touch the person you want to bug. It will instantly adhere and sink into their skin. From that point on, everything they say will be sent to this little box. It can hold an infinite amount of conversations, and you can fast forward, rewind, slow down, speed up and erase. The buttons are all labeled. You have to press the record button right here to have the box record, otherwise you can just listen like to a wizarding wireless," George said.

Severus looked at the box. He had to admit it was ingenious.

"What if I want to stop listening in on the conversations all together?" Severus asked. "What happens to the patch?"

Fred flipped the box over and there was a black button on the bottom. "Mischief Managed" was written under it.

"Press that little button, the patch dissolves harmlessly and the link is broken. You can buy additional patches at any time," Fred added.

Severus studied the box.

"How much?" he asked.

"For the public, two thousand galleons…but since we've always liked you, Professor…you can have this little beauty for one thousand galleons," George said, patting the box.

Severus scowled.

"Eight hundred galleons and not a sickle more," he growled.

Fred and George made a big production of whispering to each other, after which George said, "Done."

Severus counted out two hundred galleons from the sack and put the rest on his Gringotts account.

"This had better work," Severus said warningly as he took the package from them, and pulled up his hood.

"All our products have a galleon back guarantee," Fred and George said together.

Severus grunted and left the shop, parting the crowds as he did so.

George and Fred watched him depart through the display window.

"Walking death, I tell you," Fred said as the Potions Master stalked through the crowds.

"I don't know, Fred. I think death would have a better personality," George replied, "and a better complexion."

The twins both collapsed in laughter.

Having the Potions Master in their store had been a real hoot.

* * *

Severus had no problem at all placing the patch on Hermione. Whenever he would visit her, she would clasp his hand in welcome. He simply put the patch, sticky side up in his palm and when she greeted him, it adhered to her hand and disappeared.

When the Potions Master returned to his study, he turned on the speaker box and could hear the witch clearly arguing with Poppy about not wanting to eat the rather disgusting gruel the medi-witch was trying to force down her throat. Hermione eventually won, and was treated to dry toast with jam and a small glass of milk.

Hermione's therapist, healer Gwendolyn Pickleton did a basic evaluation. Severus recorded the conversation, with the healer asking Hermione what her most immediate worry was. Hermione was concerned about not having a job and told the healer how she didn't have any original spells on her work record because her department head had taken all credit for her work, so even if she could get past the blacklisting, she still was not employable. Almost all new Spells graduates started at the Ministry in some capacity, then moved into the commercial or private sector. Without a good spells history, finding other employment was next to impossible.

Hermione was not yet aware of Dumbledore's plans to hire her, or that her spells had been restored to her credit. That evening Severus and Albus came to visit her, and Dumbledore extended the job offer.

A teacher? Me?" Hermione asked.

Albus nodded at her, smiling.

"Yes, Hermione. As soon as your therapist says you are ready to work, you can begin teaching Spell Theory," the Headmaster said.

Hermione's face fell.

"But I don't have the spell work to qualify as a teacher, Headmaster. My work record is empty," she said brokenly.

"Albus has had your credits restored to you Hermione. You have twice the amount of credits to teach," Severus said. "And given your know-it-all nature, and the way you love to impart unwanted knowledge to those unwilling to absorb it, teaching will be perfect for you."

Hermione gave Severus a small smile.

"And you would have your own rooms, classroom and lab, in the dungeons," Albus added.

Hermione looked at Severus.

"In the dungeons?" she asked again, not taking her eyes off her ex-husband.

Severus swallowed reflexively against the intensity in his ex-wife's eyes.

"Yes, the dungeons," Albus repeated, grinning.

It seemed Albus' idea that Severus would be a draw for Hermione to take the job was correct. She agreed immediately, at which point Albus produced a contract for a year's term and Hermione signed it. Then she looked at the Potions Master, who had observed the proceedings in silence. She was going to be in the dungeons. Good gods.

"Could I perhaps have some quills and parchments, Severus?" she asked him.

"Why, Hermione?" the Potions Master asked her.

"I want to start on my lesson plan for the first twelve weeks," she replied.

Severus and Albus looked at each other, the Headmaster's eyes twinkling, and the Potions Master smirking. They both looked at Hermione.

"Certainly," Severus replied.

* * *

When the therapist arrived the next day, she was surprised to see Hermione sitting up and writing.

"Well, Miss Granger. It is nice you decided to get out of bed," Gwendolyn said, smiling and pulling up a chair. "What are you working on?"

"Lesson plans. The Headmaster has offered me a job here at Hogwarts, teaching Spell Theory. He managed to get my spell credits applied to my work record," Hermione said, not looking up from her work. The therapist noticed how absorbed Hermione was.

"Well, that is good news, and takes care of your job issues," the healer said, taking out her pad. "But I'm afraid you're going to have to stop working on your lesson plan for now, Miss Granger. It is time for your therapy session. It will be a difficult one, I'm afraid."

Hermione looked at her, then began to gather her papers together. She opened the draw of the nightstand and put them and her quill inside. She lay back on the bed and got comfortable, then looked at the healer.

"What are we going to talk about today?" Hermione asked her.

"We are going to talk about your miscarriage and your reaction to it, and your husband's reaction as well," the healer said softly.

"I don't want to talk about that," Hermione said, her eyes glistening.

"But you need to. If you don't get it out, Miss Granger, you won't heal. You do want to get better, get back to yourself don't you?" Gwendolyn asked her.

"Yes," Hermione said in a small voice.

"Good," the medi-witch said. She reached in her bag and took out a small vial of clear liquid.

"What is that?" Hermione asked her.

"It is veritaserum, a special brew for therapy sessions. It is rather weak, but helps the patient be more honest about their feelings. It helps you say what you need to say, but unlike full strength veritaserum it does not compel you to speak the truth, just to be truthful about what you want to talk about. You aren't required to take it, but I find that it really helps, especially in the beginning."

Hermione studied the vial for a moment. Assisted honesty. Yes, she probably needed that or she would hold back some of the horrible things that went through her mind at the time. She needed to face them.

"I'll take it," Hermione said.

Gwendolyn nodded, uncapped the vial and watched carefully as Hermione drank the serum down. The healer noted the time of consumption. It worked for about an hour. She waited a minute or two.

"All right, Miss Granger. I want you to tell me what happened that night. About the miscarriage, and how you felt about your own and your husband's initial reactions to it. I may interrupt you with a question here or there to get you to clarify your feelings, but this is your story. I want you to tell it your way," Gwendolyn said, her quill posed over her pad.

So Hermione told her what she wanted to know. By the end of the session the witch was in tears.

"I didn't know I felt like that," she sobbed, "Oh my gods."

"Guilt and misplaced blame are normal in a situation like this, Miss Granger. What is important is that you realize those feelings were the result of grief and not your natural lucid responses. You will find in the next few weeks that almost all of your acts were grief-related. You did very well for your first session. Your continued honesty will be of great benefit to a full recovery," Gwendolyn said, patting Hermione's hand reassuringly.

* * *

That evening Severus listened to Hermione's first session soberly. The witch had said that she initially believed if he had gotten to her sooner, Jacob would not have died. She also believed that he blamed her for the loss of the baby, because when Poppy announced she had miscarried, Severus had left her alone. What she didn't know was he was having his own reaction to the loss and didn't want to upset her. He stayed away for half and hour, then returned to her.

Hermione also said he showed no grief. That he went to Hogwarts the next day the same as always, while she was left alone to agonize. Yes, he had thrown himself into his work…it was his way of dealing with the pain. Then they buried Jacob, and the day after his burial he was summoned and spent five days with Voldemort before returning home to an angry, silent Hermione. Severus realized now the Dark Lord had purposely separated him from his wife at that terrible time to drive a wedge between them.

"Since he left me physically, I left him emotionally. Let him know what it was like to be without love or comfort," she had told the healer about her decision to move out of his bedroom when he kept going to the Dark Lord. "I felt he abandoned me when I needed him the most. I needed him with me."

The healer gently reminded Hermione her husband had been working for the good of the wizarding world, and had to fulfill his duties.

"Fuck the wizarding world. My baby was dead. Dead. I needed him more than they did!" Hermione sobbed.

Severus' eyes glistened as he listened to her rave, then the healer said, "So what you are saying Miss Granger is you wanted your husband to turn his back on the lives of thousands of people to sit with you and endlessly mourn a child that he could never bring back?"

Hermione broke down.

"No, I never wanted that…not really. I was just, just…"

"Just grieving Miss Granger," Gwendolyn said softly. "You know now he couldn't do it, even if he wanted to."

"Yes. I didn't know I felt like that. Oh gods. I blamed him for so much," she sobbed.

Severus cut off the machine.

His chest felt as if iron bands were tied around it, and it was difficult to breathe. Listening to the session had been very affecting. In her grief she had blamed him for losing the baby. Then later after finding out about the Mordres potion she must have received the epiphany the original therapist had spoken of, and realized Severus was never at fault. Gods, what a mess.

In the following weeks, Severus listened to all the painful reliving of the fights and attacks and how the therapist made his wife see how it all tied back to the Jacob's murder and her grief. He began to realize too that Hermione really hadn't been the witch he loved during those hard times, that the witch he loved was buried deep beneath her pain, but had never truly left. Now she was re-emerging and felt lost, confused and alone.

He had suffered because of her illness, went through public ridicule and loss of drive, but it wasn't malice or hatred that caused his ex-wife to do this. It was all grief, pent-up grief redirected so she didn't explode in upon herself…though eventually she did when the truth of her actions caught up with her.

There was a session that he found very hard to listen to. It was Hermione confessing she still loved him.

"When I see him, I want him to put his arms around me like he used to, to look at me like he used to. But he is so formal, so distant, and it hurts so much. I can't blame him. Look at all I've put him through. I promised him I would never hurt him if he took a chance on loving me. Then I betrayed him. Betrayed him and humiliated him publicly. I would do anything to have him love me again," she sobbed, "Anything he asked of me, I'd do it."

"If you told him this, Miss Granger, what do you think he'd say?" the healer asked Hermione.

"Get away from me," she responded shortly.

There was silence for a moment.

"Miss Granger, we've dealt with all your issues but one now. That of amends and closure with your ex-husband. From what you've told me of him, it seems unlikely that you two will ever mend your broken relationship. But he deserves to know why you did what you did, and that you never meant to hurt him. Our next therapy session will deal with just how you will tell him this. When we do the session however, it will be role-play. I will be you, and you will be your husband. You will respond the way you think he will respond when I attempt to apologize. That way we can deal with your fears about talking to him, maybe find ways to counter his responses and gain his forgiveness," the healer said gently.

"Of all the things we've talked about, I think this is going to be the hardest," Hermione said.

"Yes, it will be difficult but we will take our time. However I have some good news for you. I believe you are strong enough now to return to work. You can move into your rooms and start teaching," Gwendolyn said, smiling.

"I can? Oh gods, thank you. Thank you!"

Severus had cut off the speaker box. It was coming to a head now. He and Hermione were finally going to have the talk she spoke about while she was imprisoned in the Dark Lord's domain. The Potions Master had sat through all of her therapy sessions and knew her heart concerning everything that happened between them. She had brought up his saying that he wished he could walk away. By saying such a thing, Severus had triggered her to seek the divorce. He was partially to blame. Of course, he hadn't meant it…he had been angry and wanted to shock and hurt her. He didn't expect her to put his things out. He never expected Hermione to find a way to divorce him. In spite of all her abuse, in spite of the lack of intimacy, the witch had never once said anything about leaving him. He had brought that to the table, and she served it up accordingly.

Severus sighed. He would be sure to listen in on the role-play. This way he would have an exact idea of how she perceived him at this point in time.

It would help him make a decision concerning her. Whether or not to forgive her, and to what degree? Could they start over? Did he really want to start over and risk his heart again?

The main question was, did he still love Hermione after all he'd gone through?

He just didn't know.

* * *

Hermione moved into her rooms at Hogwarts the following night. Severus had gone to the house and brought her clothing, books and both wands. Her wand found at the apparation point as well as her bag had been returned to her. She seemed to have a preference for the new wand she received from Voldemort. It seemed to be much more powerful than her original. Hermione planned to bring it by Mr. Ollivander's shop to find out if he knew who owned it before she did.

Her lesson plan was already completed, and several students had signed up for her course. The first day Hermione demonstrated a few of her original spells and thoroughly hooked the students. Especially her repelling shield. She allowed a student to fire a weak hex at her, and it bounced back and hit him.

"Try to run after you throw your next hex," she said to the young wizard. He let a weak stunner fly and ran behind Hermione's desk. His hex circled back and flew behind the desk, stunning him slightly. The students were all very impressed.

"In order to create your own spells, you have to know Spell Theory. I will teach you all I can, then you can pursue it further when you attend university. But you will have a good head start," Hermione told them.

As news about how great the class was got around, Hermione found that students were transferring to her class in large numbers. It didn't hurt that the male students found her very sexy. Hermione was the subject of quite a few randy little fantasies. She finally had to close the class when it swelled to thirty students.

Severus noticed Hermione was getting her glow back. The glow that surrounded her when involved in something she loved. He had ceased being her guardian when she moved into her rooms, and only saw her in passing. Sometimes she would exit her rooms at the same time he did, and hesitate as if thinking of going back into her rooms. Or she would give him a quick hello and walk double-time to avoid walking with him.

Hermione's reaction to him reminded the Potions Master of when he had let her know that he knew she fantasized about him before they became lovers. She had skittered like a rabbit every time he came anywhere near her. Severus knew the witch still loved him and most likely she was trying to hide it from him by avoiding him. He decided to test the theory.

He waited just inside his potions office for Hermione to leave her rooms for breakfast, then swooped out on her, blocking her path.

"Good morning, Hermione," he said to her, rather silkily to see if there were any reaction. There was. She became very nervous.

"Good morning, Severus," she replied, her amber eyes shifting as she looked for a way to dart around him. She wouldn't look him in the eye. "I need to get to breakfast, so if you'll excuse me…"

"I'm also heading to breakfast, Hermione. We might as well walk together," Severus said.

Now Hermione did look up at him, her eyes rather wide and worried. But she began to walk beside him. She was quiet, which was unlike her. Normally the witch chattered about anything that was going through her mind. But, she hadn't made amends to him yet. She felt she didn't have the right to talk to him as if everything between them was fine, when it wasn't.

"How are your classes going?" Severus ventured, trying to get her to talk.

"They're fine. Just fine," she responded.

Severus had the feeling the witch wanted to break into a run and escape him. He smirked a bit. The bastard inside him loved making her feel uncomfortable. Some things never changed.

"You seem to have quite a large class," he pressed.

"Yes. Very large," she said shortly as they arrived at the Main Hall and turned into the rush of students heading for breakfast. Hermione took this opportunity to try to separate from him, but Severus stuck to her doggedly until they turned down the hallway that led to the staff entrance to the Great Hall.

Suddenly Severus placed a hand on her arm and stopped her. Hermione turned to him, and literally trembled under his touch. He looked at her intensely as she quaked. He knew that quake all right. He felt a little pulse of desire…just a tiny one. It had been a long, long time for him.

Hermione looked terrified.

He scowled at her look. She didn't need to be afraid of him.

"Hermione, you don't have to be frightened of me. I'm not going to hurt you or do anything to you," he said, still scowling. He didn't realize he looked pretty frightening.

"Please let me go, Severus. I'm…I'm not ready to talk to you yet," Hermione said in a small voice.

Again, this reminded Severus of the time when Hermione tried to hide what she felt for him so long ago. He had seduced her shortly after. He found he was having similar thoughts now.

The Potions Master's face must have betrayed his thoughts, because Hermione began to get a rather wild look in her eyes, the whites showing.

Alarmed, Severus released her, fearing that she might relapse if he pushed her too far. Hermione backed away from him and hurried to the staff entrance, opening the door and disappearing inside.

Severus cursed himself. He had no idea why he stopped Hermione that way. Most likely she'd be more skittish than ever now. But he knew that the reaction her body had when he touched her wasn't fear. Not by a long shot. That had most definitely been desire. He could feel her temperature rise through the fabric of her robes.

Her next therapy session was in a week. She would practice apologizing to him and hopefully, come to him soon.

* * *

Hermione sat in her seat next to Professor McGonagall, close to hyperventilating, her heart pounding and palms sweating. For a moment, it seemed Severus had looked at her the way he used to look at her when he wanted her. She had almost gone into total meltdown. If she had stood there a moment longer, it would have all come tumbling out before she was ready and she could have ruined her upcoming, practiced apology.

Hermione looked down at her sleeve. She could still feel the place where Severus hand had gently grasped her arm. The moment he touched her, her whole body heated up and started to shake. He had to have noticed. Severus could always tell when she reacted to him. He wouldn't have forgotten the signs.

Hermione's face flushed with shame. After what she had done to him, she had no right to react like that. She denied him for not days, weeks or months…but years. And now she was quivering after him like some randy little seventh year again. What must he think of her?

Her first night in her rooms, all she could think about was Severus in the bed next door. It had been horrible. On top of that, she had dreamed about him, a very erotic dream where he was driving her body across the bed lustfully, his black eyes blazing down at her. It had seemed so real and she woke with her nightgown soaked from her orgasm, the first she had in years. What was so disturbing was that the dream didn't happen in their bed in the house at Little Hangelton, nor had it occurred in his four-poster bed in his private rooms. Severus had been doing her in the bed she was sleeping in now.

Hermione sighed as she began to calm. She surreptiously looked down the table toward her ex-husband, only to find he was looking directly at her thoughtfully. She quickly turned her head away and ordered her breakfast. Half a grapefruit and coffee. She didn't feel she could keep anything else down. Now she was nervous about leaving the Great Hall. She didn't want to run into him on her way back to the dungeons. She felt overwhelmed.

Severus saw what Hermione ordered for breakfast and knew immediately that she was very upset. She always ate sparsely when troubled. She was prone to stomach upset when her nerves were bad. And he imagined she was feeling very disturbed that she showed such a reaction to him. She had to know he realized it for what it was. Desire. That old desire she used to evidence when he touched her.

And he had reacted for a moment.

He suspected he was still reacting.

Through listening to her sessions Severus knew without a doubt his ex-wife stilled loved him. And today he found out for himself she was still very aroused by him.

Hermione had for all intents and purposes been dead to Severus when she divorced him, and now it was as if she was back from the grave and haunting him. What to do about her consumed his thoughts much of the time.

Should he forgive the witch but keep her at arm's length, and continue to live as he was, alone? Or should he forgive her and take advantage of her love for him to satisfy his sexual needs and not make a commitment to her again? Or should he forgive her and remarry her since she was ill when she divorced him?

And would any of these choices truly make him happy?

Severus looked down the table at the petite witch again, watching as Hermione rose rather nervously and walked toward him, intent on leaving the Great Hall. She rushed past his seat and disappeared out the staff exit door. He suspected she would run all the way back to the dungeons and the safety of her rooms.

The Potions Master shook his head and took a large sip of his coffee.

She reminded him so much of the nervous virgin he had taken years ago.

At the other end of the table, Albus watched Severus with a small smile on his face. He had witnessed a flushed Hermione enter the Hall, followed by Severus, and watched the Potions Master look at her a few times, and she looking at him.

The Headmaster didn't think it would be long now. True love was a lot like a phoenix after all. It could burn completely to ash, then rise from those very ashes to live again.

* * *

Hermione's next therapy session was held in her rooms with Gwendolyn on a Saturday. Severus saw the medi-witch arrive and hurried to his room to turn on the speaker box and listen.

The healer and Hermione arranged two armchairs to face each other. Gwendolyn sat in one and Hermione sat in the other. The healer saw that Hermione was on edge and for a while they discussed how her new class was going until the witch relaxed. Then Gwendolyn reiterated how well Hermione had done with her therapy and how she was sure she could get through this final situation if she were honest and sincere with her ex-husband.

"Now Miss Granger, this is going to be role-play. I will be you and you will be your ex-husband and respond to me as you think he will respond to you. Is that clear?" the healer asked the witch.

Hermione nodded.

"All right, I will begin with approaching you to talk," the healer said. "Um, excuse me Severus? I'd like to talk to you in private."

Hermione scowled at the healer.

"What could you possibly want to talk to me about, Hermione? The divorce papers you gave me said it all," she said snarkily.

"I just want to explain what happened. Why I did what I did. To say I'm sorry," Gwendolyn said.

"Hermione, I'm not interested in why you did what you did. The fact is you did it. You divorced me and publicly humiliated me. Sorry will not cut it. There is nothing you can say to me that will ever make me forgive you. Ever. Now if you will excuse me," Hermione said.

Her amber eyes were glistening with tears.

Gwendolyn sat back and studied the witch.

"Surely he wouldn't react like that, Miss Granger," Gwendolyn said.

"You don't know my ex-husband. He knows people make mistakes but believes they have to deal with the consequences of them. He'll think that I'm just making excuses," Hermione said sadly. "He won't forgive me. I hurt him too badly."

"Hermione," Gwendolyn said softly, "I want you to understand something. This apology is for your healing. Whether or not he forgives you is secondary. You need to attempt to tell him anyway. If he refuses to listen to you, then at least you would have tried. That will be your closure."

"But I want him to forgive me, to understand that I wasn't myself…I want him to know that I still…still…"

She stopped.

"Still love him, Hermione? Surely you weren't intending on tacking that on to your apology? It would be too much. You would be opening yourself up to rejection. If you think he won't accept your apology, what makes you think he would accept your love? You are trying to work past your hurt, not add more. What you are focusing on is telling him what happened and that you are sorry to have caused him pain. That is what you need to say to him, and that is all you need to say. Don't give yourself false hope that there will be anything more. Actually, you are closing a chapter of your life, and not trying to reopen it," the healer said rather strongly.

She needed to make Hermione understand this apology was not going to be a magic fix-all.

Severus listened to Hermione's imitation of what she imagined he would be like when she came to apologize. A few months ago, that might have been exactly the response she would have received from him. But he had come to understand what had happened with her through the sessions. He would not be that cold to her now. He already knew she was deeply sorry.

For the first time Severus found himself at odds with the healer's advice. If she still loved him, he felt that she should tell him and put it out in the open. He might not tell her he loved her back, but still she would have let it out. He frowned a bit.

To be honest, he had an apology or two to make himself. She wasn't totally alone in the dissolution of their marriage. He shouldn't have said he wanted to walk away. He didn't have to sign the divorce papers. He could have refused. But he had been so shocked and stunned that she wanted to divorce him, he simply did what he thought she wanted. He had second thoughts afterwards and tried to reconcile, but it was too late.

He continued to listen.

"Let's try this in a best case scenario. I'll be your husband and you be yourself," Gwendolyn said.

"But you have no idea how he is," Hermione protested.

"This is role-play Hermione, just go along with it, all right? Neither of us is going to capture him perfectly," the healer replied.

"All right," Hermione said, taking a deep breath, "Excuse me, Severus. I would like to talk to you in private about what happened between us. I want to try to explain to you what happened. I never meant to hurt you."

"Where would you like to talk?" Gwendolyn asked her.

This brought Hermione up short for a moment.

"In my study," she said.

"Certainly," Gwendolyn replied. "Lead the way."

"Severus would never be that reasonable about this," Hermione complained.

"Stay in character!" the healer hissed, scowling.

Hermione composed herself.

"Please sit down, Severus. Can I get you something? Pumpkin juice? Firewhiskey?" she asked.

"No, I'm fine," Gwendolyn said.

"Severus, I just want to say I am so sorry for the way I treated you. After Jacob's death, I fell apart, I just didn't realize it. I blamed you for things that you had nothing to do with, and made demands of you that you couldn't possibly fulfill. I was selfish and self-centered. Nothing mattered but how I felt and laying blame. I treated you horribly. I left your bed, I called you names, and I made you miserable for two and a half years. I don't even know why you stayed with me. I was a horrible wife. Then when you got fed up and said you wished you could walk away, I ran with it and managed to get the Ministry to grant us a divorce. If I had been myself I would have never treated you in such a way. I just want to say that I am sorry I destroyed our marriage and hurt you so badly, and want to ask for your forgiveness. Please forgive me, Severus. Please," Hermione said, her eyes glistening.

Gwendolyn waited a few seconds.

"I forgive you, Hermione," she said.

Hermione scowled.

"Severus would never just say 'I forgive you.' He'd have more to say than that even if he did forgive me, which he won't," Hermione sighed.

"But what you said was fine, Miss Granger. That is exactly what you need to tell him. Short and honest. If he doesn't respond, then that is all you can do," the healer said.

"I shouldn't tell him I still love him?" she asked the witch.

"No," Gwendolyn said flatly, "There are two reasons actually, Miss Granger. The first is, as I said before you opening yourself up for rejection and even more pain, and the second…I don't quite know how to put this delicately…is that your ex-husband might be unscrupulous and take advantage of your vulnerability to initiate…intimacy without giving you any commitment."

Hermione didn't respond to this. She was thinking she would be willing to have sex with Severus if he wanted her, commitment or not. She missed his passion and had been dreaming about him in that way. Hell, even if it were payback sex she would be fine with it. She owed him for hurting him.

Severus smirked a bit as he heard the healer's warning.

Yes, he really was that unscrupulous. But he already knew Hermione would be willing, that she was willing to let him take her. Considering her masochistic streak, she probably thought he owed her a payback shag for putting him through what she did and if she did feel that way, she was definitely turned on by it. Hermione was a twisted little witch.

The problem was, if he did have sex with her, what would that mean? Would she take it as they were back in a committed relationship? Would he? Did he want that? The witch loved him, and if he were intimate with her, she might take that to mean he returned her love, rather than he was just sating his lust for the familiar.

Hell, he didn't even know if the connection was still there. The subtle link that made sex with Hermione meaningful beyond just sticking his tool in her warm body. It might be wise just to accept her apology, forgive her without going any further.

Gwendolyn rose.

"Well, Miss Granger…now it's up to you. I suggest you see your ex-husband as soon as possible before you lose your nerve. We will have a follow-up session to see how everything went. If you've gotten closure and feel you have done all you can do and are satisfied with that, most likely your treatment will be over. If not…then I will continue to see you as long as need me to."

Hermione looked up at her.

"Gwendolyn, who is paying for this treatment?" she asked the witch.

Gwendolyn looked at her.

"That is confidential information, Miss Granger. Suffice it to say I am well paid for treating you. But even the individual who pays me is not privy to anything we discuss. All of our sessions are private," the healer said, extending her hand to Hermione, who stood up and shook it. Gwendolyn headed for the door and pulled the torch.

"Good luck, Miss Granger, and remember time is of the essence," she said, exiting.

Hermione sunk back down into the armchair.

"He's never going to accept my apology," she said to herself, "but Gwendolyn's right. I have to try. I'm a Gryffindor. I can't just give in to a Slytherin without even trying."

Severus arched an eyebrow at her comment. She was going "House" now. That meant she was garnering her courage to face him. She would most likely approach him tonight, after supper, waiting until the last possible minute.

He'd be ready for her.

* * *

A/N: The end of Part 2. Thanks for reading. 


	3. You Promised It Would Be Forever Part 3

**You Promised It Would Be Forever Part 3**

Hermione sat in the armchair for about half an hour, steeling herself. She told herself that Severus was no one for her to be afraid of, that he was a man like any other man, and had the right to accept her apology or reject it, and she would just have to live with his decision. She had hurt him badly, but if she had been in her normal state of mind, she would never have done such a thing. If he couldn't understand that, then there was nothing more to be said. She never claimed to be perfect.

The witch felt a new resolve. It was time to stop hiding and feeling sorry for herself. Even without Severus her life wasn't over. It just felt like it was. But her feelings would fade and she would move on. Maybe even meet someone else, and this time apply the lessons she learned from her first failed love.

Hermione sighed. That was pushing it. She had never been interested in anyone other than the Potions Master. He was her first and her only. Although she had never slept with another man, Hermione doubted there were many lovers like Severus. Anyone she met would have to compete with his memory, compete with his love. She didn't think anyone could ever replace him in her heart or in her bed. It would be better just to focus on living her life as best she could. If she were destined for another love, then it would happen.

Hermione stood up and walked into her bedroom, then into the bathroom. She looked at herself in the mirror. If she were going to talk to Severus, she wanted to look presentable. More than presentable. She walked over to the bath and turned on the jasmine spigot, then walked over to the shelf and retrieved her shampoo, setting it on the edge of the bathtub. She let the tub fill almost to the brim with hot, sudsy water, then turned it off.

She undressed, grabbed the shampoo and washed her hair in the shower as the water in the tub cooled. She washed it thoroughly, the scent of jasmine settling in. Severus had loved the way her hair smelled. He was always burying his big nose in it. Hermione smiled at the memory.

Finished with her hair, she walked to the sunken bathtub and slipped into the warm, frothy water with a sigh. She lay back and soaked luxuriously. She felt better than she had felt in years. She decided she would take her supper in her rooms, and then wait for her ex-husband to return from the Great Hall, and approach him just as she and Gwendolyn had practiced. She would invite him into her study, offer him some refreshment, then make her apology and ask for his forgiveness. But the healer had been right. To tell him she still loved him would be too much, no matter how she felt in her heart. Whether he forgave her or not, she would thank him for listening and let him leave.

She soaked for a while, but left the tub before she got pruny, and dried herself off. Naked, she walked into the bedroom and opened her wardrobe. She looked over her robes…then something rather wicked clicked in her mind as her as her eyes fell on the red pumps resting on the floor of the wardrobe. Her eyes swept over to the dresses and settled on the red one with the little slit up the side. She had never worn the shoes or the dress.

Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment. Why not? It might make Severus more amenable to accepting her apology.

The witch wouldn't allow herself to think what she was really up to.

It was too terrible. Too shameless.

Too Slytherin.

* * *

Severus kept his eyes pealed for Hermione the entire afternoon, but she never left her rooms. Was the witch in there trembling about approaching him? More than likely. It was close to supper and she still hadn't emerged. Well, he was peckish. He'd go eat supper and return. Surely she would seek him out or meet him on the way back.

As he walked toward the Main Hall, he was still torn as to how he would respond to the witch's apology. If he would forgive her or not. She planned to invite him into her rooms. He would be in her domain. That might give her a bit more courage. He wondered if she would confess she loved him still, and if she did…how he would respond to her. It was obvious he retained some feeling for the witch. His actions toward her showed this much. But was it love, or just the remnant of a responsibility he once felt toward her?

The Potions Master arrived at the Great Hall and entered through the staff entrance. Albus watched him with rather hooded eyes. His Professor seemed to be rather distracted. The Headmaster was well aware that Hermione was to apologize to him tonight. The healer had thought it best that someone in authority know of it, in case Hermione was rejected and reacted badly. Personally, Albus thought the apology would go rather well.

Severus found his appetite was quite diminished, and so had a bowl of soup with bread and a glass of pumpkin juice. Could it be he was a bit off his game because of the upcoming situation with his ex-wife? Her apology was in all probability going to be quite emotional. Even when she was role-playing with the healer, he could hear the desperation in her voice.

He ate his soup soberly as he considered being alone with the witch as she asked for his forgiveness.

Alone with Hermione after almost four years. A Hermione who loved him again. Quite a tempting arrangement. The healer was right, she would be vulnerable. All that would be required was for him to simply touch her and she would most likely melt into a willing puddle of lust. He didn't believe the witch had taken any other lovers since their divorce, though it could be possible if she wasn't herself.

Severus scowled at that possibility. One of the things he had loved about Hermione was that no other wizard had ever done the things to her that he had. No other man had ever known the pleasures of her body or her secret need to be taken strongly. He had been her only lover and he had coveted that fact. She had been his and his alone. His name was the only name she had cried out in the midst of passion, in the throes of climax. He was the only wizard to witness those amber eyes go hot, or fall half-lidded when she was entered. He was the only…

Severus realized he had a raging hard on. His robes were noticeably tented, even though his was sitting down.

"Shit," he breathed, sliding closer to the table and willing his organ to go down.

But it remained stubbornly rigid, awakened by his memories of Hermione and sustained by the idea it would soon be within reach of her, if the wizard it was attached to would take advantage of the situation. It throbbed as if to urge him on to make the right choice.

"Severus! How are you my boy?" said Albus smiling and pulling out a chair next to him.

Dear gods. He would show up now.

"I'm fine, Headmaster," Severus said in a strained voice, scooting his chair even closer to the table.

"Good, good. Are classes going all right?" the Headmaster continued, making small talk, his blue eyes twinkling brightly behind his half-moon glasses.

"My classes are going the way they always go when filled to the brim with dunderheads," Severus replied irritatedly. He wished Albus would leave. If the Headmaster saw him with a hard-on…

Albus chuckled.

"You seem a bit stiff, Severus. You really need to relax," Albus commented.

Severus gave him a sidelong glance.

"I am fine, Headmaster, believe me. I just have something on my mind," the Potions Master replied evenly. Did the Headmaster know?

"Is that something five foot three, with amber eyes and chestnut hair?" the Headmaster asked, grinning.

"No," Severus lied.

Albus chuckled.

"You know Severus, denial isn't just a river in Egypt," the Headmaster quipped, rising from his chair and patting the wizard on his shoulder. "Twain," he added, walking away with a broad smile.

Severus looked at the old wizard's retreating back perplexed. Sometimes he had no idea what Albus was talking about. He felt himself deflating somewhat. At least Albus was good for something other than abstract comments.

Finished with his soup, and his anatomy somewhat restrained, Severus rose from the table and exited the Great Hall. He turned down the dungeon corridor.

"This is it," he thought as he headed for his rooms.

As if on cue, Hermione's room door opened and she stepped into the corridor just as Severus reached his door.

"Um, excuse me, Severus? I was wondering if I could talk to you privately in my study? It will only take a few moments," Hermione called to him.

Severus turned toward the witch. It was all he could do to keep his mouth closed as he looked at her.

Hermione's chestnut hair fell in soft curls around her shoulders, and she was wearing a red dress that showed a hint of thigh, and fit her too well, accentuating all her curves. He glanced down at her feet. Dear gods, she was wearing heels.

Hermione watched the Potions Master's black eyes slide over her, and lock on her shoes for a moment. He had always loved her in heels. They used to drive him quite mad. As his eyes snapped to her face, she saw that apparently they still did. His eyes were positively glittering.

Severus didn't answer the witch as he walked toward her. He stopped about a foot away from her, his eyes resting on her cleavage for a quick moment before he met her eyes.

"What do you wish to talk to me about, Hermione?" he asked in a low voice.

"About what happened between us, Severus, and how sorry I am. Please, go in," she said.

Severus hesitated as his eyes swept over her again, dropping to those shoes. Suddenly, the Potions Master swept through her door so swiftly, he startled her.

Gods, he was in her rooms. She was alone with him.

The witch took a deep breath to steel herself, then walked in behind him, closing the door. She didn't ward it however.

Severus stood in the middle of the room, looking at her. He wore a slight frown.

"That's quite an outfit you're wearing," he said.

Hermione looked down at herself as if just noticing what she had on.

"I felt like dressing up. This is an important occasion," she said.

Severus cocked his head at the witch.

"How so, Hermione?" he asked her, though he already knew.

Hermione looked at him a moment.

"Please sit down, Severus," she said, gesturing towards one of two armchairs that sat in front of her fireplace.

The Potions Master walked over to the chair and sat down. Hermione walked over and joined him. The slit fell open a bit when she sat, revealing her creamy thigh.

Severus was trying to retain his composure. Gods, the witch looked delicious.

Hermione looked at him a long moment before she spoke.

"Severus, I want you to know that I never meant to hurt you the way I did," she said, beginning to show some nervousness. She looked down at her hands and began to twist them, then she looked up at the Potions Master again, who was listening intently.

"When Jacob died, it was as if a part of me died too, the caring part. I didn't know it at the time. All I knew was the pain of losing my child. It was as if nothing else mattered…nothing. I became someone else Severus, someone who caused you a world of hurt and pain. I heaped blame on you when you were innocent of wrongdoing. I left your bed and made your life with me one of misery. You took that for almost three years, until you couldn't stand it anymore and lashed back at me. And I took that one comment, ignoring everything I had said and done to you, and used it as an excuse to push you out of my life."

Hermione drew in a shuddering breath and continued.

"I turned my back on you and hurt you when I promised I never, ever would. I was ill, Severus and my grief and rage consumed me. If I had been myself, I would have never have moved your things to Hogwarts, or gotten those divorce papers and made you sign them. I would have never put you up for shame and public humiliation. I am so, so very sorry, Severus, for doing that to you, and ruining our marriage. You loved me, and I turned away from you. I know I don't deserve forgiveness. I know how you feel about mistakes. I have no right to ask you this, but I'm hoping you'll find it in your heart to forgive me. Please, forgive me Severus," Hermione said, tears slowly running down her face. "I'm so sorry."

The Potions Master looked at her for a long moment, saying nothing at first.

"Hermione, you weren't the only one at fault. Eventually I closed up toward you in much the same manner you did me. True, I wasn't as vocally abusive as you were, but silence can hurt as much as harsh words. I was the one who told you I wished I could walk away from you. Despite all of your raging, you never once threatened to leave me. I gave you the idea to divorce me, and when you brought me the papers, I didn't try to save our relationship either. I simply signed them. So you see Hermione, you weren't the only one at fault here. We are both responsible for what happened. I will find it in my heart to forgive you, only if you can find it in your heart to forgive me as well," Severus said, his eyes locked on the witch's face.

Hermione stared at him, her tears still rolling freely. She had never expected a response like that from her ex-husband.

"Forgive you? But Severus, you didn't…" she began. Severus shushed her.

"Hermione, yes…you weren't yourself, but the guilt is not all yours. Don't claim it all. Just forgive me," he said softly, reaching into his shirt pocket beneath his robes and removing a handkerchief. He handed it to the witch, and she looked at it for a moment, rolling it between her fingers before dabbing it to her eyes.

"I forgive you, Severus," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"And I forgive you, Hermione," he replied softly.

Hermione stared at him, then let out a small sigh. Severus wondered if she were going to tell him she still loved him. But she didn't.

Instead, she said, "Thank you, Severus. Thank you for understanding."

"You're welcome," he said.

The couple stared at each other, Severus debating as to what he should do or say now. The apologies had been very emotional, and Hermione was very vulnerable. He had been of a mind to seduce her, but now…now he couldn't bring himself to take advantage of the witch, no matter how much his body protested.

He rose from the chair.

"I'm going to take my leave of you Hermione. I hope you've found closure," he said. He began to walk toward the door.

"Severus?" Hermione called to him.

The Potions Master turned back towards her. She stood up and walked around the chair, stopping several feet away from him. She was twisting her hands again.

"Yes Hermione?" Severus asked her, his belly drawing up tight at how lovely she looked.

"Don't go, Severus," she said in a small voice, "Please don't go."

Severus stared at his ex-wife, standing before him in those red pumps and red dress, pleading with him not to leave her rooms. He felt a tug in two places. Apparently one was in his heart.

"Hermione," he said quietly, "I am attempting to do the noble thing here and not take advantage of your vulnerable state. We've both been through a lot, and you might not be thinking straight."

Hermione looked at him, and took a small step toward him.

"Don't be noble, Severus…be kind," she said softly.

The term "Be kind" had been a code phrase Hermione used to use to let Severus know she wanted to be ravished. In other words treated roughly and taken hard and long. He was sure her masochistic tendencies were in full force. Severus felt himself responding to her powerfully.

The gods knew there was nothing Severus would love more than to drive the witch from one end of the bed to the other after all these years of celibacy. He could be very, very kind to her. But he didn't want her to think that he was willing to renew their relationship, because he wasn't sure he was.

"Hermione, I'm not saying this to hurt you, but I'm not sure I want to start a relationship with you again," he said softly, his regret evident in his voice.

Hermione took another step forward.

"I'm not asking you for a relationship, Severus. I know I've hurt you badly. And I also know you've been alone for all this time. So have I," she said.

Severus breathed a little sigh of relief at this. Another wizard hadn't had her.

"Severus, all I have in my head are the terrible things that I did to you. I can't pull up any happy memories. The therapist says I am almost at full recovery but I feel disconnected to my past," the witch said, "Severus I want to remember your passion, not your pain. Every time I think of what I've done to us, it's like a knife being shoved into my belly. I don't think I can heal completely if every time I think of you, I think of how I mistreated you. Maybe…maybe I need a different kind of therapy, Severus. Physical therapy."

The Potions Master arched an eyebrow at her. Physical therapy? He had heard of that, but it involved helping people to learn to use their bodies again through exercise. Hermione took another step toward him. She was about four feet away from him now.

"I'd do anything you wanted, Severus, anything you ask of me," Hermione said softly.

Severus felt himself hardening at this statement. Desire began to rush through him Hermione recognized the look on his face. She quickly closed the distance between them.

"You don't have to stay afterwards Severus, or even come to my bed ever again if you don't want to. Please don't leave me with such bad memories of us. I feel I owe you so much more than a tearful apology," she said in a low voice.

Severus looked down at her. He could feel her heat washing over him.

"Hermione, it's been a very long time for me. It is possible I could be too kind to you," he said, a small growl in his voice.

"You can be as kind as you want, Severus, as kind as you need to be," she replied.

As much as Severus wanted to do this, he was still unsure. He stared down at the witch however, and Hermione could see he was torn, there was both hunger and hesitation dueling on his pale face. When he was her husband, he wouldn't have hesitated at all.

"There are no strings, Severus. Let me show you how much I want this. How much I want you," she said in a low voice.

Hermione's small hands reached up and gently unfastened the top fastener of his robe, then the next, then the next. Severus stood there, his jaw tight with lust, watching his ex-wife starting to undress him. He couldn't stop her if he wanted to. The Potions Master began to breathe a little faster as Hermione slowly knelt, following the fasteners down rather than pulling his robes up. Hermione parted his robes, but she didn't stand back up. Her amber eyes rested on the huge bulge in his trousers, then Hermione raised her head to look at him.

Every muscle in Severus' body seemed to tense as he stared at Hermione kneeling in front of him. He knew somewhere in the back of his mind that he should protest, draw her up and tell her she was just overcome with emotion, that if she thought about this she'd see it was foolish, that it shouldn't be happening. But he couldn't protest. He didn't want to.

Encouraged by what she saw in Severus' eyes, Hermione gently pressed her hand against his hardness, and Severus hissed, his hips thrusting forward of their own accord, his body wanting more contact. Dear gods

"Do you want me to show you, Severus?" she asked him, caressing him through the fabric gently. She hadn't touched him this way in almost four years. A small sound rose in the back of the wizard's throat before he answered her.

"Yesssss," he hissed. "Show me, witch."

Hermione trembled a little when he called her 'witch.' When he didn't use her name it meant he was moving into his animal mode. And Severus' animal mode was exactly that. A knot twisted the witch's belly and she felt a gush of lubrication absolutely soak her knickers. Gods, she wanted him. It had been so, so long.

Severus had officially lost his battle of conscience the moment Hermione touched him so intimately. And now she was going to do something to him that he loved. Hermione pulled at the fastenings to his pants a bit roughly, yanking him, remembering the wizard loved that.

For a moment, Hermione underwent a terrible feeling of performance anxiety. As badly as she wanted him now, the witch was hoping that when this all was over, Severus would find he still desired her and would want to come back for more.

Hermione would settle for being the Potions Master's lover again if she could not be his wife. At least he would be in her life again.

She had to make this good.

Hermione pulled Severus' trousers down around his thighs, aware of his eyes on her, black, hot and intense. He was breathing heavily with excitement. She hesitated for a moment, then lowered his black silk boxers. The Potions Master gasped as the air hit him, his erection springing out at the witch. It was enormous and weeping. Now Hermione made a sound in the back of her throat, before she grasped his girth in both of her hands, and looking up at him, licked the tip, her eyes going half-lidded as she savored the familiar taste of him.

Severus groaned, then bit his lip as he watched and felt Hermione's small hands wrap around him and her pink tongue flick over him, her eyes half closing with pleasure. Then she slid her entire hot, wet mouth over him sucking the wizard into her heat.

Severus' knees buckled for a moment, and he had to catch hold of her head to keep from dropping from the delicious sensation of her soft lips dragging back and forth over him. His pale fingers locked in Hermione's hair, gripping her tightly as she bobbed, sucking and swirling her tongue, pressing wet, suckling kisses up and down his pulsing length, the Potions Master moving her hair aside so he could watch her.

Gods, his voice sounded so good as he groaned.

"Dear gods, witch," he said, his voice dragging like heavy silk over her. She returned to sucking him, working both her hands up and down his length, fully stimulating the wizard.

Severus had forgotten just how exquisite the witch felt. And to think he was about to walk away from this. He threw his head back and began to draw her over him, pushing deeper into her mouth, verbally encouraging her to continue.

"Yes, Hermione…my gods…yes," the Potions Master moaned as she increased her speed, adjusting her head to let him slide between her lips at different angles, her teeth scraping him lightly, her tongue tickling him beneath the flange, making him hiss and buck into her mouth uncontrollably. Severus gagged her a couple of times, but he couldn't help himself as she brought him closer to the edge. Would she take him over? Gods he hoped so.

"I'm going to come," Severus groaned hoarsely, his head dropping forward so he could see her, his black hair swinging around his face as he pumped into her mouth.

Hermione didn't stop, but released his shaft with one hand and reached for his scrotum, twirling and squeezing them gently with her fingertips as she continued caressing him with her other hand with increasing ardor.

A growl began low in the Potions Master's chest as he felt himself tightening. The pressure in his balls was almost painful. He gritted his teeth as the sensation built and he gripped Hermione's head so tightly he could have left imprints in her skull as pleasure crackled like fire down his spine and he exploded into the witch's sweet mouth with a ragged shout, bliss washing over him as he felt Hermione swallow his release down as if he were feeding her liquid ambrosia.

Severus held Hermione as close to his loins as he could, bending over her, weak and dizzy from the force of his release. It seemed to go on and on, but finally the pulsing slowed, then stopped.

Hermione gently pulled back and released him. Still overcome, Severus simply lowered himself to the cold stone floor, sitting in front of the witch with his knees slightly raised, his head hanging as he panted.

Hermione was panting too, her knickers soaked to dripping as she looked at her ex-husband, who lifted his head and looked at her.

"You're still very good at that," he gasped appreciatively.

Hermione gave him a small, relieved smile as his eyes washed over her, still hungry. She didn't think he was going to leave her. But she had to be sure.

"You will stay with me, won't you Severus?" she asked.

He could be sated after all.

Severus looked at her, his breathing finally returning to normal.

"Hermione to leave you now would be like arriving at a banquet starved, and leaving after only a forkful of food. I have no intentions on leaving…unless you want me to," he replied.

The Potions Master lifted his hips a bit to pull up his boxers and trousers. His naked buttocks had been resting on the cold, stone floor. But he didn't fasten them.

"No, I want you to stay…I want you to…" she began.

"I know what you want Hermione," he replied, allowing himself to caress her cheek. The witch closed her eyes and leaned into his hand.

"Kindness," he said softly, a hint of iron beneath the word.

"Yes, Severus. One more act of kindness from you," she answered, her eyes glistening with emotion. "Then I'll know in my heart you've forgiven me."

Severus was tempted to tell her he had forgiven her weeks ago, when he began to understand what she had gone through. But the wizard quickly decided it was best he didn't tell her. What he had done was actually illegal and a grave infringement of the witch's privacy. He thought she might not take it well.

Severus slowly rose from the floor and looked around her study, it was much like his except her library was much smaller. Hermione watched him quietly. Finally Severus looked down at her.

"So these are your quarters," he said, offering the witch his hand. Hermione took it, and he pulled her to her feet.

"Why don't you give me a tour?" he asked her silkily, not releasing her hand..

Hermione nodded and started to lead him to her small kitchenette off the study. Severus stalled in place.

"Starting with your bedroom," he said, his dark eyes glittering.

Hermione blushed a bit at his look and changed direction, leading the Potions Master by the hand toward her bedroom, remembering the dream she had about him driving her across her bed. It seems it hadn't been a dream, but a premonition. If the wizard was even half as good as he was in that vision, Hermione would be overwhelmed by his 'kindness.' She shuddered a bit, and Severus felt it. His eyes fell on her ass as she led him toward his bedroom. A little growl escaped him as he imagined slapping his loins against it. Then he stalled again.

Hermione looked up at him.

"What is it, Severus?" she asked him.

The wizard pulled out his wand and turned toward the study door, warding it securely and placing a strong silencing charm around the entire room. Then his dark eyes fell on her.

"If I remember correctly, Hermione…your voice…carries," he said meaningfully. "I want to be the only one to hear you sing."

Hermione flushed again, and the Potions Master smirked. She continued to lead him to her bedroom, walking through the door. Severus closed it and released her hand. They stood facing each other. His eyes swept over the witch, lingering on her curves, then falling once more to her shoes.

"You know, Hermione, wearing that dress and those shoes was not remotely fair. Especially those shoes," he said. "You purposely used your knowledge of what arouses me to manipulate this situation. You knew it would make it difficult for me to resist you. I still say there is far too much Slytherin in you witch."

Hermione gave him a small smile.

"I only had one chance at this, Severus. I had to try and stack the odds of success on my side. We were happy together, and when we were…a lot of your beliefs and tactics rubbed off on me. You put the Slytherin in me, Severus…in more ways than one," she replied.

"I suppose I did," he said, reaching out and pulling her against him, "I intend to put a bit more Slytherin inside you, witch."

Hermione sighed with pleasure at the feel of his lean, hard body pressed against hers, and wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head against his chest, listening to the rhythmic pounding of his strong heartbeat.

"I missed the sound of your heart," she said softly.

Severus looked down at Hermione, an odd feeling washing over him at this statement. If she had said she missed the feel of his body, that was something that he could accept as an expression of her physical desire for him, but to miss the sound of his heart beating…that was a deeply emotional confession, one that went beyond physical need. The Potions Master tightened his hold on her, and didn't reply. But his eyes blinked rapidly for a few moments at the sweetness of her words.

Gods, he had to be careful. The witch could easily pull him in. This situation was already moving beyond lust as it was. Severus couldn't deny he still had feelings for Hermione. They would only escalate when he took her. He felt her pull her head away from his chest.

"Severus, would you…kiss me?" she asked him.

The Potions Master looked down at her upturned face. Kissing was so personal, so intimate. But he couldn't say no to her, not the way she was looking at him. Severus sighed, resigned to going under. This was definitely going to be more than having sex with his ex-wife. Something more was going to be invested here and there was no way to stop it other than walking away. And he couldn't walk away from the witch if he were tied to a team of thestrals. He wanted her too badly.

"Yes, Hermione, I will kiss you," he replied, bending slightly, lowering his head and capturing her lips between his own, reveling in their softness.

He sucked on her top lip, then her bottom, pressing his mouth against hers. Hermione was soft and giving as he kissed her. He needed more, and gently tapped on her lips with his tongue as if knocking for entry. Hermione opened her mouth and felt his tongue slip in. She moaned as the familiar taste of his mouth ignited her, his tongue caressing and wrapping around her own, exploring her heat.

The Potions Master pulled her against him with more urgency, his hands beginning to move over her body, petting her softly, slipping over the curve of her hips, running down her thighs, before moving upward and grazing the swell of her breasts. Hermione began to tremble as heat and ache gathered between her thighs, a sweet burn starting in her lower belly. She pressed her pelvis against the wizard, and he let out a little groan, both hands sliding down to cup her buttocks, squeezing and pulling her into him, rotating her against him hungrily.

The Potions Master slid his mouth over the witch's chin and down her throat, sucking and biting her flesh gently, but not too gently, reacquainting himself with the taste of her skin. He could feel her heating up and smell her arousal, as she moaned at the sensation of his mouth moving over her. Severus slid his hands up over her waist and cupped her firm breasts, the witch gasping as he fondled her, running his thumbs expertly over her hardened peaks. She was moving against him now.

He slid his mouth up her throat, his lips against her ear.

"You're so ready," he growled as she arched against him.

Hermione let out a sound like a kitten, and felt Severus smile against her throat as he moved downward again. Her surroundings were fading out, and she was quickly becoming lost to her ex-husband's ministrations. She felt the wizard pulling at the hem of her dress, dragging it upward, then his hand slip beneath it, his fingers gently pressing against the soaked crotch of her knickers. She buckled when she felt him touch her, and he gripped her tighter, hissing softly as he eased her knickers aside, and slid two fingers between her folds, rubbing her softly.

Severus had pulled away from Hermione's throat and was watching her reaction, hardening quickly as the witch's head fell back, her mouth dropping open, her eyes closing, moaning and bucking against his hand as he manipulated her. Hot wetness gushed over his fingers, glazing them, and he spread the slickness over her flesh, his black eyes locked to her face as she gave herself over to the pleasure.

Gods, she was so beautiful.

Hermione strained against Severus hand, aching for release, the sweetness of the sensation almost unbearable. Her eyes snapped open and looked up at her ex-husband. She could barely wrap her mouth around the single word.

"Please," she whispered up at him.

Severus sped up his caressing, tweaking her between his fingertips. She cried out. It was the most beautiful sound he had heard in a long, long time. He was swollen and throbbing, pressed again her belly. Panting, Severus slipped two fingers inside his ex-wife, hissing as he parted her, his digits sliding into her tight, pulsing warmth. He began to thrust them in and out, pressing her flesh with his thumb, watching Hermione as she continued to softly cry out. He felt so good to her. She helped him, pushing down on his hand as he took her with his fingers.

"Yes," he whispered hotly, "Let go, Hermione. Come all over my hand, witch."

Severus pressed his fingers deep inside the writhing witch, twisting and wriggling them, trying to coax an orgasm from her. He wanted to see Hermione's face contort when she came.

"Come for me," he commanded, his voice harsh now.

That did it for the witch. Hermione stiffened, curled forward then arched, screaming as her orgasm hit her and she was flung outward, exploding, shuddering, completely lost to bliss, her searing release pouring over the Potions Master's hand.

Severus observed her with satisfaction, his heart pounding in his chest as she buckled in his arms. This was the Hermione he remembered. Passionate, wanton, beautiful and so responsive to his touch.

"You're still beautiful," he whispered to the spasming witch, his nostrils flaring as the scent of her filled the bedroom. "Still the most passionate witch I've ever known."

Severus held Hermione securely as she came down from her climax, trembling, covered in perspiration, tendrils of her long hair stuck to her face. She opened her eyes and there was a look in them that made his heart pound even harder. He would have to be a blind man not to see the love there. He removed his hand and with her watching him, brought it to his nose, breathing her muskiness in, his eyes narrowing in pleasure. He sucked his fingers slowly, then licked his hand clean sensuously.

"Still delicious, wif…"

Severus caught himself. He had almost called Hermione wife. She was no longer his wife.

"Witch," he amended.

Hermione's eyes went a bit sad for a moment, but she recovered quickly. She knew what the wizard had almost said. Severus saw the flash of sadness and silently cursed himself. He hadn't meant to make her feel badly. He lowered her dress, pulled her upward gently and kissed her, sharing the taste of her release as he did so.

Hermione looked up at him, her eyes dark with desire. Severus knew although that had been good to her, it wasn't enough for the witch.

"You still look rather hungry, Hermione," he said, teasing her, "the appetizer not enough?"

Her eyes went smoky.

"The appetizer was delicious, Severus," she replied.

The Potions Master suddenly sobered.

"You think so?" he asked her.

"I know so," she answered him.

Severus looked down at her consideringly.

"Well, I hope you left room for the main course, Hermione," he said in a low, sexy voice that felt like a caress to the witch. "There will most likely be several courses, and you can expect quite a lot of meat to be served."

He looked down at the bulge in his silk boxers meaningfully. Severus still hadn't closed his trousers and the front of his boxers was so expanded, it looked like a huge, oddly shaped black silk balloon was trying to escape them.

Hermione couldn't help grinning even as heat surged through her body. Severus was still very heavy on the sexual metaphors.

"Severus," she said, smiling at him, "Sometimes you can be too much."

Suddenly the Potions Master grabbed Hermione's hand and pulled her toward the bed.

"If I remember properly, that's just the way you like me, witch," he replied, sitting down on the bed and positioning her in front of him.

The Potions Master looked up at his ex-wife, his hands on her small waist. Hermione had her hands resting on his shoulders, wondering what he wanted to do now. Severus pulled his wand out of his pocket, pressed the tip beneath her navel, whispered a contraceptive spell then returned the wand to his pocket. Then he raised his black eyes to her face again.

Looking up at Hermione this way, Severus could almost believe they were still happy together, and nothing ugly had ever passed between them. He slid his hand over the curve of her hip. Suddenly he let her go.

"Back up five paces," he ordered the witch.

Hermione did as Severus demanded, looking at him steadily as his eyes raked over her. They dropped to her shoes again. She seemed to feel heat following his eyes back up her body as he leveled his gaze at her.

"Take off that dress," the Potions Master said, "slowly. I want you to take as much thought in taking it off as you did when you put it on."

Hermione slowly slipped one arm, then the other out of the dress' short sleeves, then slowly pulled it down over her breasts, revealing a lacy red bra. Severus' eyes glittered as he drank in Hermione's body, and he licked his lips as she drew the dress over her waist, then hips, revealing her lacy red (and soaked) knickers, then slid the dress down her thighs and calves, over her ankles and stepped out of it in those red shoes.

"Put the dress on the chair," the Potions Master breathed, watching Hermione bend her legs to pick up the dress, straighten, then walk over to the chair in her underwear and those hot red three-inch open-toed heels. They made the witch's legs seem longer and her calves even shapelier, and gods, how she moved in them.

"Now walk toward me," Severus said, his black eyes stuck to the witch's body.

Hermione walked over to the wizard, her hips swaying deliciously, pouring on the sex. The witch knew he loved to see her walk in heels. She stopped between his spread knees.

"Now, walk away from me," Severus said a little hoarsely.

Hermione turned and walked away from him, her buttocks shifting tantalizingly as she did so. Severus let out a little groan, then reached down and freed his organ from his boxers. Hermione turned to see her ex-husband slowly stroking his huge member, an expression of lust on his face. Desire washed over her like a tidal wave, and she buckled a little, her eyes heating up as she watched him move his hand back and forth, his long pale fingers curled around his girth.

"Dear gods…" she breathed.

"Walk back and forth across the room," he growled at her.

Hermione did so, walking as sexily as she could. She could feel the Potions Master's eyes on her body, and hear his breathing quicken.

"Stop and turn towards me," he said sharply. "Show me your breasts."

Hermione began to reach around and unclasp her bra.

"No!" Severus hissed, "Not like that. Leave it on. Just lower the front of your bra…tuck it under."

Hermione did as he asked, pulling the cups down and revealing her full breasts. Her nipples were tight hard peaks. Severus stared at them as if he were starving.

"Play with them," he said. Hermione brought her hands to her breasts, lifting first one then the other, then squeezed them, and began to caress them, her eyes on Severus as she did so. She tweaked her hard nipples and let out a little moan, imagining her hands were his hands as she moved them over her fullness.

Severus' eyes were hot as he watched Hermione fondling and teasing her breasts. She was so desirable…just as he remembered her when she was his wife. He continued to caress himself for a few more moments. Suddenly he stopped.

"Come here,"the wizard croaked.

Hermione walked back over to the Potions Master and stopped between his legs again. He cupped her breasts, then pushed his face between them, kissing her skin as he pressed her firmness around his face,

Hermione's knickers were drenched. Then Severus began to kiss and lick the witch's torso, squeezing and fondling her firm flesh, teasing the witch mercilessly as her hands buried themselves in his silky hair.

He rubbed the tip of her breast with his nose, then drew his tongue slowly across it.

Hermione squealed.

Severus chuckled, then began to suckle her, pleasure shooting all across her body, particularly between her legs. She was aching now, and wanted him inside her.

Working toward this goal, Hermione reached down between the wizard's legs and gently grasped his erection. Gods, he was so hard, and the ache she felt became worse. The Potions Master grunted and jumped, switching to her other breast as she caressed him.

He groaned and pulled down one strap of her bra, then the other. Hermione let him go for a moment as she slipped her arms out of her bra straps. Severus pulled the lacy undergarment down to her waist, and used it like reins to pull Hermione into his mouth, one hand reaching around and slipping under her knickers to knead the soft flesh of her buttocks.

Hermione returned her hand to Severus' organ, petting him gently, and arching her body into him. She was ready. Every place he touched her burned, and she needed him on top of her, passionately replacing her ache with his own. Hermione let out a sob and Severus stopped his attack on her body and looked up at her. The witch's face was so contorted with need she looked as if she were in pain.

"Hermione," he breathed, pushing her back, turning her around and unfastening her bra and removing it. Then he lowered her knickers, sliding them down over her legs. Gods, they were completely soaked. Severus stood and for a moment pressed himself against her buttocks. Hermione moaned and pressed back hard against him, and the Potions Master was sorely tempted to just bend her over and take her as is. But he wanted to look at her face when he took her.

The wizard turned Hermione back around, then pushed her down to a seated position on the bed. He knelt and lifted her foot, slowly sliding his hand over her calf before he unbuckled the strap of her shoe and slipped it off, kissing the sole of her foot, then sucking on her toes for a moment. Hermione's leg quivered uncontrollably, and Severus' eyes traveled up it and focused on the glistening triangle of chestnut hair, before he gently put her foot down and removed her other shoe, giving her foot the same attention until that leg quivered too.

"Get into the bed, Hermione," he said shrugging off his robes and letting them fall to the floor.

Hermione climbed into the bed and started to slip under the sheets.

"No," Severus said, working on the cuffs of his shirt. "On top of the sheets, witch."

He quickly removed his shirt, then toed off his boots and removed his socks. Hermione's eyes fell on his lean, muscular chest and tight, ribbed belly. She shifted in the bed impatiently.

"Come on," she thought, as the Potions Master slid both his trousers and boxers down and stepped out of them.

Fully naked and erect, every muscle tensed, Severus stared down at Hermione hungrily. Instead of climbing into the bed, he walked down to the end of it, leaned and caught the witch by her ankles, roughly dragging her down to the edge of the mattress as she shrieked in surprise.

Hermione gasped as Severus moved between her legs and suddenly fell forward as if he were going to land on the witch full weight, but caught himself on his arms at the last minute, holding his body above hers, his erection resting against her thigh. He moved slightly, dragging it across her leg until it rested against her pubic hair.

"Severus, why are we at the edge of the bed?" she asked him.

He stared down at her a moment, his belly tightening a bit.

"You won't stay down here for long, Hermione," the wizard said, "I am going to very kindly move you up to the pillows."

A pulse of lust shot through Hermione as she looked up at her ex-husband. Suddenly Severus' eyes seemed to grow darker, and his jaw clenched. He pushed himself up long enough to gather the witch's legs under him trapping them against his shoulders and almost folding Hermione in half. His feet rested on the floor and he positioned himself at his ex-wife's small entrance. Hermione buckled as she felt him settle against her.

"Kindness, Severus," she breathed up at him.

"I'll show you all the kindness you desire, Hermione," he replied hoarsely as he slowly entered her, parting her hot flesh and immersing himself deep inside the witch, his eyes rolling up into his head as Hermione stretched to receive him, tight, wet and heavenly.

Severus came to rest against her cervix, reveling in the living sleeve wrapped around him. Gods, she felt so good.

Hermione's mouth dropped open and she emitted a long, sweet groan of delight when Severus entered her, his hardness and girth one long, deep welcome caress, filling and thrilling the witch as he buried himself deep within her. The wizard felt so good, his length pulsing inside her, his loins pressed against her thighs, his face contorted with pleasure as his eyes rolled back down and rested on her face. A single tear rolled from the corner of Hermione's eye as she looked up at him.

Severus' brow creased.

"What's wrong?" Severus asked her, his body trembling slightly as he held back.

"I thought I'd never have you like this again," she whispered, "that you would never look at me this way again."

Severus didn't answer her. Instead, he bit his lip and pushed deeper into her body, rotating his pelvis in a wide circle, making the witch gasp and groan prettily as his thickness wound around inside her. He had missed this. Missed her.

Severus hadn't started thrusting yet, still savoring the feeling of being inside her body, and Hermione desperately wanted to feel his strength driving into her. She pushed at the Potions Master's hips impatiently, trying to make him pull back and his eyes glittered down at her, pleased that she wanted him so desperately. She had pushed him away for years. He'd make her wait just a little longer. Just until she blew a fuse. Severus rotated his hips again, growling down at her as she writhed around him. Hermione was so ready to be ridden.

"Severus…Severus please," Hermione said to him, trying to arch up but held back by his body pressing down. She began to clench her inner muscles around him, tightening on his shaft, making him hiss, trying to force him to break.

Severus groaned and despite himself, pulled back and slammed into the witch, who let out a perfectly beautiful scream of pain-laced pleasure as his ache hit her.

He held still for a moment, looking down at her, panting, her eyes wide with hunger.

"Do me," she gasped brokenly

"Yessss," Severus hissed pulling back, digging his toes into the floor and driving into Hermione brutally, forcing her body up the bed as she cried out, her nails digging into his sides.

The Potions Master growled against the pain, following her shifted body and driving into her again, shoving her further up the bed as he hit bottom hungrily, loving the sound of Hermione's voice breaking over him.

"Am I being kind enough, Hermione?" Severus panted at the shrieking witch, who couldn't answer him as he drove into her again and again, claiming every inch.

"No, I think I can be even kinder to you," the wizard groaned and started pouring on the pent up power of almost four years of celibacy, tearing into the witch as if trying to split her in half, driving her body up the bed at an astounding rate, hitching up after her, plunging and arching into Hermione, her legs folded against her body.

Severus couldn't get enough of Hermione's softness, her heat, her sweet voice rolling over him, an old song that struck an old cord in him as he gasped down at her, possessing the witch for all he was worth. He was perspiring now, his sweat dripping down on to the shrieking witch's bouncing body and wetting the sheets beneath as he pistoned in and out of her, his loins streaked with her juices. She was almost at the headboard now

Suddenly the witch screamed and orgasmed powerfully, clamping down and boiling over the Potion Master. He howled at the heat of her release and drove deeper, Hermione nearly choking on her scream as he moved something inside her. Severus slowed then, easing up. He felt her shift inside and was afraid he may have damaged her. He was being overly kind after all.

The Potions Master pulled out of her for a moment, to see if there was any blood. There wasn't. Hermione cried out his name brokenly, begging Severus to return to her. He re-entered her body, now stroking her gently through the final stages of her climax, rolling her to the side and wrapping his arms around her shuddering body, thrusting into her clutching sleeve, his eyes half closed, watching her through his lashes.

Hermione was completely his, lost to the sensation of the Potions Master's possession, her mouth opened in pleasure, her amber eyes unfocused, loving what he was doing to her, loving that she was in his arms again and yes, loving him. She came back to earth, and felt Severus' mouth cover hers in a searing kiss, as he sped up his stroke, but held back his power. He was afraid that although Hermione wanted him strong and rough, her body wasn't able to handle all of him…it had been a long time for her as well. She still felt exquisite around him however…he didn't have to pound into her to receive pleasure.

A low growl began to grow in the back of his throat as he felt himself tightening, moving him towards release. He clutched the witch closer to him, stroking her faster and faster, panting and grunting as he moved toward release. Letting out a cry, he thrust himself deep inside her and came, straining into her, his flow filling her orifice, washing back over him as he shuddered with pleasure. Hermione whispered his name softly and ran her fingers through his hair as he pulsed inside her, giving her every drop of his release, groaning softly as it came to an end.

Hermione held him, not wanting him to pull away from her…not wanting that feeling of distance to fall like a wall between them again. She kissed his forehead, then his nose, then his mouth softly and he sighed, his body relaxing, his breathing easing. He made no attempt to pull out of her, but her legs were starting to ache. They were still folded between their bodies. Hermione hated to say anything that would end up separating them, but she had to.

"Severus, my legs," she said softly.

The Potions Master's eyes snapped open, and he slid out of her and moved back in the bed, releasing her and rolling slightly to the side so she could straighten her legs. Hermione looked at Severus rather sadly when he didn't roll back…but suddenly, he did, nestling his face against her throat and sighing deeply, pulling her into him, one hand draped across her waist. In a moment, he was asleep. The wizard was out of practice and two ejaculations had pretty much scoured him.

Hermione felt the Potions Master's burn searing between her legs. He had been extremely kind, but he had also been thoughtful and didn't try to take her beyond her limit.

She pulled her head back slightly to look at him.

What were they to each other now? Had this been a final goodbye, the final closure? Were they destined to be friends? Friends with privileges? Lovers?

Hermione realized that the answer to that question was in Severus' court. He had not intended to stay with her…if she hadn't stopped him and seduced him, he would have gone without another word. She was grateful that he hadn't rolled off of her, said thanks and left. It would have been painful, but understandable since he said he wasn't sure if he wanted to start another relationship with her.

Hermione looked down at him. He had loved doing her, that was for certain. He was a very sensual wizard and gone a very long time without sex. He knew she was willing to accommodate him…maybe he would resume being her lover. She didn't believe he loved her any longer, though he felt something or else he wouldn't have looked after her the way he had.

Hermione sighed and lay back, placing her hand on Severus' chest and feeling his heartbeat. Her eyes drifted shut, and in a moment or two, she also fell asleep.

When she awoke hours later, Severus was gone. A bottle of purple potion rested on her nightstand. Tears formed in Hermione's eyes.

He hadn't even said goodbye.

* * *

The next morning, Severus awoke with his usual hard-on. The thing was, it wasn't for the usual reason. He rolled out of bed and went to the bathroom to relieve himself, only to find that there was little difference in his erection when he finished.

"Hermione," he sighed. His organ throbbed strongly at the mention of the witch's name.

Still hard, he walked back into his bedroom and looked at the time. It was only six-thirty. He could get another hour's worth of sleep. The Potions Master climbed back into bed, but sleep wouldn't come. Instead, he found himself thinking of Hermione and what they had shared.

Gods, it had been so good to possess her again. She was so warm, willing and wanton, just as she was when they were in love. Severus pulsed again at the remembrance of driving into the witch, and her passionate response to him as he rode her so strongly.

When Severus awoke, Hermione was sleeping peacefully against him, smelling of jasmine and sex, her breasts pressed against his chest, her lips pursed, her hair spread wildly, half covering her face. He couldn't bring himself to wake her, though he considered taking her again. So he rose from the bed and dressed, then went to get her some pain potion. She was going to definitely feel him in the morning. He didn't want her to pass the day in pain.

Severus left her rooms, retrieved some purple potion and returned to find her still sleeping soundly. He placed the potion on her nightstand, brushed the tangle of hair aside, and kissed her on the forehead. The witch stirred and sighed softly, flinging her arm over the place he should have occupied, then frowned slightly, not waking. She turned on her back, her legs shifting, her body spread out invitingly. The Potions Master's eyes raked over her, and he hardened. Hermione was so accessible, so tempting. But after possessing her so strongly, he decided it would be best to return to his own bed. If he stayed, he would take her again, and he really didn't think the witch was prepared for a continuation. Not yet. He would have to build up her strength in increments.

What a delight that would be.

Severus had no intentions on returning to a life of celibacy as long as Hermione was willing to receive him. He thought she would accept him as a lover again. He didn't see marriage. They had tried it once, and although their breakup was the result of unchecked grief and misunderstanding, Severus was not willing to chance having his heart broken that way again.

Hermione would remain true to him as a lover, and he could give her what she needed and receive what he needed as well. It had worked for them before…more than likely, if she had not become pregnant with Jacob, they would still haven been lovers until this point in time. They had loved each other, true, but only married because of the expected child.

Still, it had been reassuring to have a legal claim on the witch. Other wizards knew to stay away from her. But Severus knew Hermione only had eyes and thighs for him, and would turn any other suitor away because of how she felt about him. She still loved him after all. And as for him, he desired no other woman, so he would remain true to her as well. Becoming lovers again seemed the ideal answer.

Severus lay there for the next hour, replaying his tryst with the witch over and over in his head, recalling the sight, sound, scent, feel and taste of her. Next time he would reacquaint his mouth with her sex. He remembered how he used to have to wrestle the small witch to hold her in place as he ran his tongue and lips over her sweetness, drinking her in, his mouth filled with her savory juices, lapping, sucking and licking as she writhed under his ministrations.

Severus sat up in bed suddenly. He was driving himself crazy with lust thinking about what he would like to do to Hermione. For a moment he was tempted to let himself back into her rooms…he could because his wards were on her door. No…no…she needed to recover. He had to give her time to do so.

* * *

The Potions Master had no idea that the witch thought he had used her, then abandoned her. She didn't put any blame on him however, it was she who convinced him to come to her bed when it was obvious he had planned to leave. Hermione had hoped that when he took her, he would feel something for her, some remnant of what had been between them. Since he was gone when she awoke, she assumed he had merely slaked his needs on her willing body. And she had been very willing. Very willing indeed.

Severus had been marvelous. Strong, passionate, demanding, taking all of her as thoroughly as he could, driving her across the bed, making her feel as if there was nothing in the world that mattered other than his possession, his touch, his desire for her. Hermione wanted to believe more than lust drove him. She wanted to believe there was still passion for her, a special passion, something that made her irreplaceable to the wizard. She knew he hadn't taken any other witch, but was that because he still held a place for her in his heart, or simply because he didn't want another painful entanglement?

Gods, it was times like this that Hermione wished divination was a true art, and she could cast some runes or throw down a few yarrow stalks and learn the answers to all the questions she held concerning the dark wizard. Maybe shake some tealeaves around in a cup and read the symbols as clear and definite responses. Going to Sybil Trelawney was out of the question. Everyone knew that the bug-eyed professor had a thing for the Potions Professor. Gloom and doom would be all she'd spout concerning Severus' relationship with Hermione, whether it was true or not.

The Divination Professor had been beside herself with glee when Hermione divorced him, and she wasted no time trailing her scarves down to the dungeons to offer the Potions Master solace and female comfort, which he staunchly refused. She was livid, telling him she suspected that Hermione had somehow "stolen his nature" which meant his virility, hoping to tempt Severus into proving he was still "all man". Her tactic didn't work and the Potions Master rudely told her he wouldn't shag her if she had the only trim left on the planet. Of course Sybil attributed this statement to his anger at being thrown over by his wife, and returned to the North Tower to bide her time.

As far as anyone knew, she was still biding it.

Hermione rolled out of bed and regretted it immediately. Every part of her ached. As much as she wanted Severus, she hadn't been ready for him at full strength. She was out of sexual shape. It was earth shaking when he took her, but now she was paying the price. Hermione dropped back on the bed and looked at the purple potion on her nightstand. Its presence meant that Severus had taken the time to dress and go to his potions stores and retrieve it for her before he left. So he wasn't completely inconsiderate.

Hermione uncapped the potion and drank it down. Relief flooded her body. It seemed as if it were a stronger brew than what he used to give her. In the beginning, she took it all the time but eventually she was able to take Severus' strong possessions without it. The witch sighed. It seemed that after almost four years, she was physically back to square one. And since the wizard had gone, she imagined she would never get back up to par.

The faint scent of sandalwood wafted up to her. Severus' scent. She blinked back the tears that threatened to overflow her lids and walked to the bathroom where she relieved herself, brushed her teeth and took a nice, warm shower, washing the scent of sex from her body. She exited the shower and dried off, walked back into the bedroom nude and picked up her wand. She scourgified herself internally, then her bed, wishing she could somehow leave the scent of sandalwood behind. Maybe she'd buy a bottle.

Hermione pulled open her drawer and selected her usual comfortable white cotton panties and bra then put them on, casting a deodorizing spell. She looked in her wardrobe. The witch didn't feel like wearing jeans or pants, so chose a simple, white dress, with wide straps that fell to just above her knees. She brushed out her hair. It was a job because Severus and sleep had tangled it up quite nicely, but she managed to get it under control. She pulled out her robes, put them on, fastening them and sticking her wand in her pocket. Hermione walked through her study, took a deep breath, opened the door and stepped into the dungeon corridor. She walked up the hall, quickening her step when she passed Severus' door.

She had just turned on to the Main Hall when Severus exited his rooms. He stood in front of his door, looking down the corridor towards Hermione's room. He wondered how she was doing this morning. No doubt she was grateful for the bottle of pain potion he left for her. For a moment he thought about knocking and asking her if she wanted him to escort her to breakfast. When they were lovers, they always walked to breakfast together. Ah, but she was still probably asleep. Severus started walking to the Great Hall, his brow furrowed.

Eventually word of them re-establishing a relationship would get around. Severus frowned slightly at the thought of the scandal it would inevitably cause. Most likely everyone would look at him as if he were a fool. Maybe he was. All he knew was he had missed Hermione, and being with her yesterday was like coming home after a long and difficult journey.

The Potions Master's nostrils flared. Fuck them all; they could say what they wanted. He'd been miserable almost four years. It was fine when he didn't know what happiness was…Hermione had given him happiness when she was his lover. He didn't do miserable as well as he used to, and didn't want to do it any longer. He could take the ridicule. It wasn't as if he weren't used to it. When he served the Dark Lord, he was ridiculed and whispered about all the time. Only Hermione seemed to see him in a positive light. Only she had offered him love and solace in those dark days, and she was ridiculed for it too by almost everyone, including her parents. The witch hadn't cared. She fought for her right to love him tooth and nail, and eventually people either respected her choice or moved out of her life. Not one of them did.

Now it was his turn to be told he was crazy to deal with the muggle-born witch again. Severus scowled. If anyone dared to tell him that, it would be the first and last time. Hermione stood up for him when faced with the negative opinions of others. He would do no less.

Severus turned into the Main Hall, terrified students scattering in front of him. He didn't even notice them, which was abnormal. Normally he received great satisfaction from stampeding the dunderheads before they had a chance to feed. Well, his mind was on other things. The Potions Master turned down the corridor that led to the staff entrance, made the right and opened the door. It was Sunday morning and only a few staff members were in evidence. Hermione was one of them.

Severus stopped for a moment when he saw her. The witch gave him a nervous glance and returned to her meal. The Potions Master scowled a bit as he sat down. He had been sure she would have at least given him a small, smile considering he had given her a couple of very good orgasms. He ordered a hearty breakfast of pancakes, sausage, eggs, orange juice and coffee. His food appeared in front him in moments, and the wizard lit right into it, finding he was starved. Everything tasted delicious and he was making short work of it.

Albus Dumbledore was also in evidence this morning, and looked over his glasses at both Severus and Hermione. He had seen the Potions Master give the witch a rather possessive look, and Hermione give him a rather nervous one in return. The Potions Master was also tucking away quite a hearty breakfast, a sure sign he had expended some energy. The Headmaster knew that Hermione was going to apologize to the wizard yesterday. By the look of them, the apology had been fully accepted, though there was still a bit of uncertainty in Hermione's face. No such look was on Severus' however. He definitely looked more relaxed than he had in…well…in years as he ate.

Albus dipped his spoon into his oatmeal, carefully brought it to his mouth and inserted it neatly. He loved oatmeal, but it had the tendency to make his beard a mess.

Severus took another look at Hermione, this time at her plate. She had a soft-boiled egg, a piece of toast and tea. A sure sign she was troubled. Was she regretting what they had done? He hoped not, because he wanted to do it again, and soon. He had years to make up for.

Hermione finished her food, wiped her mouth and stood up. Her heart was pounding because she had to pass Severus on her way out. The witch had decided to act as if nothing had happened between them. She didn't want to put him on the spot. If it had been a goodbye shag, then she would accept it for what it was. At least he had given her a good memory to keep in her heart concerning him. Hermione raised her chin and walked by Severus. He glanced up at her, but she kept her eyes straight ahead and exited the Great Hall, not acknowledging him at all.

Albus wasn't the only one who noticed the wizard looking after the witch. Sybil Trelawney sat with her fork frozen mid-bite, her magnified eyes narrowed at the obvious interest the Potions Master was showing the Spells Mistress.

"Don't tell me she's hooked him again," she thought, "After all she's done to him, one would think he'd wise up."

Sybil rose from her place, picking up her plate and sidled down to the empty chair next to the Potions Master. Severus looked startled as the witch sat down next to him, her many scarves billowing and coming to rest almost in his plate. He gingerly removed them, pushing them off the table.

"Good morning, Severus," Sybil said in her seer voice, "While I was sitting at my breakfast I was suddenly overcome with a vision, a terrible vision concerning you and your ex-wife. I saw her running a sword through your heart. She was smiling. Nothing can be clearer than she will bring you heartache and pain. You should avoid her. The vision has spoken."

Severus frowned at the witch. Obviously she suspected something had happened between himself and Hermione and was trying to run interference.

"Sybil, I have no interest or faith in your so-called visions. They are wooly at best. For years you had the wizarding world believing Harry Potter would destroy Voldemort, when an old squib bravely took him out. Spare me your inane divinations. Life is to be lived as it comes to us, and the experiences that await us are not to be feared but welcomed. I take offense that you are attempting to control my affairs with your frivolous utterances. If I choose to start a relationship with my ex-wife, that is my business and my business alone. Now good day, Madam," Severus said, rising and exiting the Great Hall, leaving an open-mouthed Trelawney and chuckling Albus behind.

The Potions Master turned into the Main Hall and was about to enter the dungeon corridor when something told him to look behind him. He did, and saw Hermione standing in front of Filch's display of medals, staring at them. He paused and watched as she slid her hand slowly against the glass, her eyes blinking rapidly. He quietly walked over and stood behind her. She didn't hear him approach.

"I wish you could see all the honors the wizarding world has heaped on you, Argus," the witch said softly, "You really made a difference in all our lives. I hope you and Jacob are happy wherever you are."

"I'm sure they are," Severus said, looking down on the witch.

Hermione jumped and spun around, startled.

"Good morning," Severus said silkily, his dark eyes hot with remembrance as they swept over her.

Hermione blinked up at him, a bit of heat rising in her belly. She fought it down. He was done with her.

"Good morning," she replied, darting around him and heading for the dungeon corridor.

Severus stared after her for a moment, before striding after her and easily catching up. That wasn't the response he'd expected from the witch. Her eyes used to soften after a night with him.

The Potions Master walked beside Hermione, aware that the witch was traveling at twice her normal pace. She was running.

"How are you feeling today?" he asked her, his meaning clear. He wanted to know if she were hurting or not.

"I'm fine," she said softly, "Thank you for leaving the potion for me."

"I knew you would need it," he said, unable to hide the growl in his voice as he remembered driving her across the bed. Gods it had been so good.

"I did," she replied, not looking at him but aware of the growl.

"You're not used to me anymore," he said, his dark eyes sweeping over her again.

"Well, considering that was our last time together, I think I held up rather well," the witch replied.

Severus stopped and grabbed her arm, spinning her toward him, scowling blackly.

"Last time? What do you mean 'last time'?" he hissed.

"Severus, you left in the middle of the night. I may have only been with you, but I know what it means when a wizard leaves a witch's bed in the middle of the night. It means, 'Thanks for the ride,'" she said, her voice trembling.

"Hermione," Severus said, trying to control his temper, "I left last night because I knew that if I stayed, I would have been 'too kind' to you. It's been so long for both of us, and my desire for you is so strong, I think I could seriously hurt you. I didn't want to do that, and I didn't want to torment myself with your closeness, so I left. It doesn't mean I don't want to come back to your bed, because I do. I've missed you, witch."

Hermione's bottom lip began to tremble.

"Are you saying you want to be my lover again, Severus?" she asked him, her belly tightening.

Severus moved closer to Hermione, backing the witch against the wall.

"I'm saying I already am your lover," he said softly, "I always will be until you turn me away."

And he kissed her.

* * *

Severus and Hermione renewed their relationship as lovers, and as Severus expected it became the talk of Hogwarts for a time. Teachers and students alike all had an opinion, though generally the students were completely squicked at the idea of the pretty Spells Mistress shagging the dour Potions Master, the divorce not quite as important to them as to the adults.

His and Hermione's peers were less than forgiving of the witch. She had done something that went against tradition, broken a sacred vow between witch and wizard. Good thing the wizarding world had no laws about excommunication. If left to the choice of most others, Hermione would have been banished back to the muggle world, where such atrocities were common practice. And for Severus to become involved with her again…well, he was either spelled or crazy.

Sybil went with the "spelled" theory and actually approached Dumbledore, asking that an investigation be done. The witch had to have developed a spell similar to the "Imperious curse" to have the Potions Master's nose so wide open for her.

Albus had actually laughed, which made the Divination's professor turn bright red with fury.

"Headmaster, this is serious. We have to get Severus out of that witch's clutches," Sybil demanded.

"Sybil," Albus said evenly, "Severus is not spelled. What happened between him and Hermione never should have occurred. Ideally, they should have remained married. The fact that Severus has returned to Hermione's 'clutches' as you put it, has nothing to do with him being spelled. He still has feelings for the witch and is acting on them."

"But she divorced him!" Sybil said, "Surely he can't have forgiven her for bringing such shame on him."

"Apparently he has, Sybil. And you do well to remember that. The Potions Master wouldn't take kindly to you spreading the lie that Hermione has used dark magic on him. You are setting yourself up for a good, hard, tongue-lashing from the wizard," Albus replied.

The old wizard couldn't help shuddering at the heat that filled Sybil's eyes when he made that statement.

"And not that kind of tongue-lashing, Sybil. Now, please leave my office," the Headmaster said, still shuddering as the witch stalked out.

Severus was quite pleased with their arrangement. Hermione was as loving and accessible as she was when they first became lovers, and soon they were conducting themselves as they used to, walking to meals together and sitting next to each other at the staff table. She was quickly building up her stamina as well, and there were many pleasant nights spent twisting her into various positions and pounding into her delicious little body with delighted abandon.

There was only one thing that bothered the wizard. He would frequently catch Hermione with a sad, faraway look in her eyes…but she would always pretend she didn't know what he was talking about when he asked her what was wrong. There was a sadness to the witch, though she claimed to be happy.

Several weeks into their new relationship, Albus summoned Hermione to his office. When she walked in, Albus smiled at her broadly and asked her to take a seat.

"Hermione, first let me compliment you on how well you are doing with your Spells Theory class. The students are already clamoring for the sign up sheets for the next half term classes. That is absolutely extraordinary," he beamed at the witch.

Hermione smiled.

"Thank you Headmaster. I love teaching them too. It's nice when pupils are truly interested in a subject," Hermione said, thinking this was the reason Albus sent for her.

Albus smiled back at her for a moment.

"Now, as you know Hermione, it is important that we be supportive of our school, and each do our part to make sure it runs smoothly. And not just with students," he said.

"Of course, Headmaster," she agreed.

"I'm glad you understand that because I am going to need you to serve in another capacity as well as Spells Mistress, but I feel you will enjoy it," the Headmaster said.

Curious, Hermione's eyebrow rose. Another capacity?

"What is it, Headmaster?" Hermione asked him.

"Hermione, you are young, intelligent and single. You will make the perfect ambassador of Good Will for our school when important wizards come to visit us. Your duties will be to accompany them to dinner, shows and other activities the school arranges for their entertainment," the old wizard said, his eyes twinkling. "In other words, you will make sure they have a good time. Marcus Delaluci will be the Ambassador for the witches."

Marcus? Oh good gods. Hermione hoped the Headmaster had an idea of what Marcus considered having a good time with witches was, or Hogwarts would have quite a scandal on its hands. The wizard was infamous for his many conquests. He was always on the prowl.

Hermione paused. Severus. Great Merlin's Beard. He would have bugbears over this.

"Um, Headmaster," Hermione ventured, "Couldn't someone else handle this duty?'

Albus' brows drew down for a moment.

"Let's be honest, Hermione. Most of our female staff members are a little past their prime or else married. Most of the wizards you will be accompanying are philanthropists, who donate large amounts of galleons to Hogwarts. They deserve the best we have. And in my opinion, you are an excellent representative of our school, and a most attractive one. So you are the ambassador," the Headmaster said with finality.

And that was that.

* * *

"What?" Severus roared, his face terrible, "You have to do what?"

"Show the wizards a good time," Hermione said, quailing under the Potions Master's rage. She was sitting in one of the armchairs in his study, and he was standing in front of the fireplace, snarling down at her.

"What kind of a good time?" he demanded.

Hermione scowled at Severus.

"I assure you, Severus…it won't be as good a time as I show you," she said evenly.

Severus glowered at her then started pacing back and forth, rubbing his brow, his robes billowing. Then he stopped and looked at her.

"I don't like the idea of you gadding about with other wizards," he fumed, "Albus should know better."

"The Headmaster is only doing what he thinks is best for the school," Hermione argued.

Severus frowned at her.

"But why you?" he asked her furiously.

"Because I am young, intelligent and single. All the other female staff members are either married or a bit past their prime. The wizards are, for the most part, philanthropists who donate money to the school. I'm supposed to help them enjoy themselves by going out to dinner, shows or whatever other activities the Headmaster arranges," she said.

Severus mulled this over. Not only was she supposed to basically date other wizards, they were wealthy wizards.

"I forbid it! I absolutely forbid it Hermione!" he stormed.

Hermione swallowed. Severus was beside himself with jealously. A jealous Severus could be a very vengeful Severus.

"You can't forbid it, Severus. It's my duty. I didn't choose this, but whatever the Headmaster assigns me to do for the school, I have to do," she said quietly, hoping to calm him.

Severus stalked over to the floo and grabbed a handful of floo powder out of the box.

"Well, we'll just see about that," he hissed, throwing the powder into the floo, "The Headmaster's office."

The flames turned green. Severus turned to Hermione, his eyes glinting.

"You wait here until I get back. Don't make me come looking for you," he seethed. Then he stepped through the flames.

Hermione blinked at the fireplace for a few moments. Then the witch stood up and started doing some limbering up stretches. No matter how Severus' meeting turned out with Dumbledore, he was going to come back and ride the shit out of her…so she might as well get ready.

* * *

Albus was sitting at his desk when Severus blew through the floo, looking absolutely murderous. The Headmaster looked up at him and smiled pleasantly. He'd been expecting him.

"Hello Severus, what can I do for you this evening?" he asked his Potions Master.

Severus plopped down heavily in the armchair in front of Dumbledore's desk.

"Albus, what is this nonsense about Hermione serving as some sort of ambassador for wealthy wizards?" he asked the Headmaster, using his first name as he was wont to do when discussing personal matters.

Albus looked at him evenly.

"I assure you it is not nonsense, Severus. We need an ambassador, and Hermione is perfect for the job. She's lovely, single and good company. She can discuss a variety of subjects intelligently, and if necessary state Hogwarts cause in a way that will be beneficial. We need to put our best forward concerning these wizards, Severus. And Hermione is our best," he said with finality.

Severus' mouth worked silently for a moment.

"But she's mine," he said hoarsely. "I don't want her around other wizards in that kind of setting, Albus. Dinner, dancing, things of that sort."

Severus didn't want to say he was afraid one of those wealthy wizards might woo the witch away from him. But Albus knew that's what the wizard was thinking.

"If she's truly yours, Severus, then you have nothing to worry about," the Headmaster said, his eyes twinkling. "She's just going to accompany them to a couple of activities. It's not like she's going to marry any of them."

Severus looked up at him shocked.

The Headmaster grinned inwardly.

"Severus, my boy, I'm sorry but my decision to have Hermione serve as Hogwarts' ambassador stands. You will just have to deal with your feelings of jealousy the best way you can. If she does meet a potential husband among these wizards, then it was something meant to be," he said, sealing the deal.

Severus stared at Albus as if he didn't see him.

"Actually, Hermione's first assignment will be Friday night. She will be accompanying Lord Percival Hornswallow the 2nd to the rather exclusive Bee's Knee's Club for dinner and dancing. Formal dress. Lord Hornswallow contributes rather heavily to Hogwarts. He is an alumni of Slytherin house," Albus said.

"Is he married?" Severus asked.

"No, he is considered one of the wizarding world's most eligible bachelors," Albus replied. "Quite a witch's wizard, I understand. But I am almost positive his attentions toward Hermione will be that of a well-mannered guest to a charming hostess. He has impeccable manners."

Severus growled audibly. It was all Albus could do not to laugh out loud. The Potions Master rose.

Albus stuck in the final knife, giving it a twist.

"You will give her the message, won't you Severus?" he asked the Potions Master.

Severus looked at him with narrowed eyes.

"Oh, I'll give her the message all right, Headmaster," he said in a dangerous voice, then without another word to Albus, he threw some floo powder into the fireplace, gave his destination and stepped through the floo.

Albus shook his head. What Severus' final statement implied was not lost on him. Hermione was probably in for a long night. Gods, she was a tough little witch.

The Headmaster had tried to contact Severus via the floo one night, and the couple had warded the study but not the bedroom. Albus heard Hermione shrieking. Thinking something amiss the Headmaster stepped through the floo and rushed to the bedroom. He stopped in the doorway, realizing that Hermione wasn't being assaulted…in a manner of speaking.

The couple never saw him, but he saw them and winced. His Potions Master had the witch folded under him and was riding her petite body as if possessed, driving into her unmercifully. Albus backed up, shook his head and stepped back through the floo, wondering how Hermione survived the wizard in one piece. He had never seen anything like it. Next time Albus saw Severus, he delicately told the wizard that he should be sure to ward his floo if he wanted truly private time.

But good gods, the wizard was an animal.

* * *

When she heard the fireplace make the familiar "foomph" sound that heralded someone entering, Hermione quickly jumped back into the armchair, trying to look as if she had patiently waited there the whole time.

Severus stepped through and looked at her, his black eyes somber.

"You have a date with Lord Percival Hornswallow the 2nd this coming Friday," he said rather tonelessly, "You will be accompanying him to the Bee's Knee's Club for dinner and dancing. It will be formal."

"Dancing?" Hermione said excitedly, unwisely smiling, "I haven't been dancing in years!"

Then her eyes fell on the silent Potions Master. His jaw was clenched and there was a slight tick in his cheek. Suddenly he lunged for her, catching her by her arm and yanking her against him. He kissed her possessively, sucking her tongue into his mouth and tangling it in his own roughly. Hermione felt him quickly harden against her belly. He pulled back from her mouth.

"You love to dance, witch? Let's dance, then," Severus growled at her, sweeping her up into his arms and carrying her into his bedroom.

The Potions Master tossed Hermione into his bed on her back so she bounced, pulled out his wand and divestoed all her clothing as well as his own. His eyes had a wild light in them as he looked down on the witch. For some reason, Hermione tried to scramble out of the bottom part of the bed, but Severus was too fast for her.

"Oh no you don't, little rabbit," he hissed, throwing himself into the bed and catching her by the thigh, pulling her back towards him.

They tussled for a moment until the Potions Master got her on her back again and climbed on top of her, pinning her wrists above her head with one hand. Despite trying to escape him and fighting him, Hermione was burning up with desire. This had served as their foreplay.

Without ceremony Severus slid into her to the hilt, the witch gasping under him as his black eyes glittered down at her.

"I just want to remind you, Hermione," he said dangerously, "that you are involved…very…very…very involved with me. You be sure to tell your 'date' that."

He stroked her hard on the "verys," causing her to cry out from his power.

Severus stared down at the panting witch expectantly. She realized he expected an answer from her.

"Yes, Severus. I'll be sure to tell him," Hermione said softly.

"You do that," the Potions Master growled, "Now let's dance, witch. We'll start with the 'Horizontal Lambada.'"

* * *

Severus, Hermione and the rest of the staff were all in the Great Hall enjoying supper Thursday evening. Severus was feeding Hermione a piece of Orange Duck from his plate, wanting her to taste it. Hermione exclaimed how good it was and soon Severus was left with little more than bones and vegetables. But he didn't mind. He liked to see Hermione eat. She didn't eat nearly enough in his opinion. The Potions Master ordered another plate for himself.

Sybil Trelawney watched the pair with narrowed eyes. She'd had enough of this. Only this morning she asked the bones if she could overcome Hermione's wicked hold on the Potions Master, and the answer had been in the affirmative. So now, buoyed with a bit of sherry, Sybil was planning on confronting Hermione directly. Dueling her to be exact. For the affections of one Severus Snape. It never occurred to her that even if she did defeat the Spells Mistress, Severus wouldn't give her the time of day. Those were details that could be worked out later. The most important thing was to get the witch to leave him alone.

She watched as Albus walked over to the Potions Master. She listened carefully.

"Severus, I'd like you to come up to my office to discuss the Potions Budget for next year," Albus said.

Severus groaned. He had planned to spend the evening reminding Hermione whom she belonged to. Tomorrow night was her 'date' with Lord Horny-swallow.

"Can't it wait, Headmaster?" Severus asked him, knowing the answer would be in the negative.

"No it can't, Severus. My office after supper," the Headmaster said with authority, then he exited the Great Hall.

Severus looked at Hermione.

"Well it looks like you've got an hour's reprieve," he growled at her.

She smirked at him, which she probably shouldn't have done. He scowled blackly.

"So, you're happy about Albus sucking up my time, time I could be spending shagging you?" he hissed at her.

"No, Severus. You just get so upset when Albus wants to talk to you," she said, "It's funny."

"We'll see how funny it is when you're tied to the bedpost with your ass in the air," he threatened.

Hermione just shook her head, not knowing he meant it.

"Whatever Severus. Go see Albus," she said dismissively.

Severus' nostrils flared angrily. The witch didn't believe him…fine. Now, what was better, leather ties or soft rope?

"When you're done with supper, go to my rooms and wait for me," he said to her, giving her a peck on the cheek and scowling at everyone who saw it so fiercely, they all turned their heads away.

"I have parchments to mark," she said to him as he walked toward the exit.

"Bring them," he called back, leaving the Hall.

Sybil left right behind the Potions Master, turning left in the Main Hall as he went right. He didn't notice her as he headed up the main stairwell, thinking about the best knots to tie in leather thongs.

The Divination teacher slipped down the dungeon corridor, past both Severus' and Hermione's rooms, and waited in the lower hall for the witch to appear. Then there would be a reckoning. She pulled a flask out of her sleeve, opened it and took a swig of sherry for good measure.

* * *

Hermione walked briskly down the dungeon corridor, stopping in her classroom to pick up the parchments she needed to mark. She reduced them and stuck them in her robes pocket. After warding the door, she continued down the hall, heading for Severus' rooms. Unlike the Potions Master's set up, Hermione couldn't access her class, office and lab from her quarters. They were located before the Potions class.

She stopped in front of Severus' office and was about to let herself in, when she heard someone call her from further down the corridor.

"Stop right there, Hermione," a female voice commanded.

Hermione peered down the corridor. She could make out someone tall and thin.

"Who is that?" Hermione asked.

Sybil Trelawney appeared her large glasses glittering as she approached in her gauzy green robes and spangled shawl. An assortment of chains and beads dangled from her thin neck. Numerous bangles hung loosely, rattling on her bony wrists while large rings covered her fingers. Her wand was drawn.

"I challenge you to a duel," the witch said, brandishing her wand.

"A duel?" Hermione asked, her eyebrows almost disappearing into her hairline. "Whatever for, Sybil?"

"For Severus of course. You've put some kind of spell on him that locks him to you. If I win this duel you will release him…and give that spell to me!" Sybil said, her eyes narrowing.

Hermione scowled at her.

"Severus isn't under any spell Sybil. He's with me because he wants to be," Hermione said.

"That's a lie! How could he want you when you divorced him?" the Divination Professor spat.

"He's forgiven me. I wasn't myself when I divorced him," Hermione said, trying to explain.

"A likely story. I say you've spelled him, and I challenge you!" Sybil cried.

"I won't duel you," Hermione said taking out her wand and beginning to unward the door to Severus' office.

"Oh you will or you'll just get your little ass kicked," Sybil snarled, firing a blast at Hermione

Hermione was hit squarely with the spell and thrown several feet down the corridor, landing painfully on her back.

"Some Spells Mistress you are. Probably charmed your way through university too, or earned your degree on your back," Sybil said nastily, as she approached the fallen witch. "Ready to give him up?"

Sybil pointed her wand at Hermione again.

In pain and thoroughly pissed, Hermione snarled, raised herself on one elbow and quickly fired a spell at the witch before she could utter another word.

"Odonata Insecta!" Hermione cried, a beam of bright green light shooting out of the tip of her wand and engulfing the tall, thin witch. Sybil's jewelry rattled loudly as she began to shake uncontrollably. Her wand clattered to the floor.

Hermione had cast a modified transfiguration spell that she had developed. It was also adaptable, transfiguring the victim to whatever muggle genus and class the witch intoned. With Sybil, it was pretty obvious what Hermione turned her into.

The witch's body began to shrink within the light until it was about three and a half inches long and brightly colored. Sybil now had large compound eyes, chewing mouthparts and two pairs of outstretched, elongated, many-veined wings.

Hermione had changed her into a dragonfly.

Sybil hovered in the air, her wings buzzing angrily as she watched multiple Hermiones rise from the floor slowly, holding their backs. The witches walked toward the insect and slowly picked up wands off the floor. Suddenly, Sybil darted at Hermione who waved at the transformed witch agitatedly, heading back for Severus' office door and unwarding it, flinging her hand at the bug as it circled her head.

Hermione let herself in, but Sybil followed, still attacking her. Her back aching, Hermione slowly opened the study wall by pulling on the torch. The wall slid back revealing Severus' study, and Severus himself, testing lengths of rope in his pale hands.

Hermione limped in, followed by the dragonfly, which darted at her, hovering then diving over and over.

Severus looked up at the witch.

"I got back early. Something came up for Albus, thank the gods," he began then noticed her limping. "What happened to you, Hermione? And what is that buzzing around your head?"

"A dragonfly," she said tiredly.

She didn't notice Severus put down the ropes and walk over to his desk. He rolled up a piece of parchment.

"I'll get it," he said stalking the dragonfly, which hovered in front of him.

Sybil saw him raise the parchment to swing at her and dipped away just in time. Severus swung viciously.

"Damn," he said, chasing it.

Hermione suddenly realized Severus was trying to kill Sybil.

"Severus no! That's Professor Trelawney!" she screamed at him.

Severus stopped.

"Really?" he asked her.

"Yes," Hermione said.

Severus took off after the dragonfly again, redoubling his efforts, leaping over the sofa in his quest to crush the bug.

"Severus, you stop it right now!" Hermione yelled at him as he pursued the buzzing Sybil around the study.

"I might not ever get this opportunity to rid myself of her again, Hermione," he panted, stopping.

"That would be murder, Severus. She's a human being," Hermione said.

"That's a matter of opinion," Severus replied, swatting at Sybil as she buzzed by, and taking off after her again. Finally he trapped her in a corner. He raised the parchment.

"Bye, bye, Sybil," he breathed, grinning evilly.

Hermione pulled her wand out of her pocket and shot a blast at the dragonfly, transforming it back into the witch just as Severus brought the parchment down, hitting Sybil soundly in the face with it.

"Damn it, Hermione," Severus seethed at her.

"How dare you try to crush me!" Sybil shrieked at the wizard.

"Obviously I didn't try hard enough," Severus replied, stalking away from her and scowling at Hermione. "Now kindly leave my rooms."

"You knew it was me, and you purposely tried to kill me!" the witch continued to shriek at him, pushing out of the corner.

Hermione painfully lowered herself into the armchair in front of the fire and placed Sybil's wand on the table.

"Severus, could you get me a bit of pain potion?" she asked him.

"What's wrong?" the Potions Master asked her, ignoring the shrieking Divinations teacher.

"My back hurts," Hermione said simply.

She didn't want to tell him Sybil attacked her. She didn't know what he'd do to the witch.

Severus looked at her for a moment. Sybil approached them.

"Lean forward," he said. "Let me see."

Hesitantly, Hermione leaned forward. Severus unfastened the first couple of fasteners on her robe, then reached around and pulled it back, then her shirt. Her entire upper back was black and blue.

"What happened?" he roared, "You tell me right now!"

Sybil picked up her wand off the table next to the armchair and began to quickly move toward the study door when she saw how outraged the Potions Master was, then slipped through it and the office door, fleeing for the safety of the North Tower, her gauzy robes billowing and jewelry clinking merrily as she fled.

The witch had a feeling this wasn't over. She'd be taking meals in the tower and keeping the door securely warded. Severus had actually tried to kill her with a rolled up parchment. Maybe he really wasn't secretly attracted to her after all.

* * *

Severus went to his potions stores and brought back several items. He saw that Sybil was gone and securely warded his office and study as well as the floo. He carried the items into his bedroom and deposited them on his nightstand, then went to get Hermione.

He didn't want to pick her up, because he wasn't sure how much damage was done. She still hadn't told him what happened. While he was gone, Hermione's eyes shifted to his desk and rested on the lengths of rope that rested there. He really had intended to tie her to the bedpost. Damn Trelawney!

Severus gently helped Hermione up from the chair and into the bedroom. Once there he helped her into the bed and made her lay on her stomach. He took out his wand and divestoed all her clothing but her knickers. He gasped as his eyes took in her back. It was completely black and blue. How had she done this? Had she fallen? Even a hard fall couldn't have done this much damage. He gently pressed his fingers along her spine. Hermione cried out softly in pain.

"Hold on, Hermione…let me check you," he said gently.

Nothing appeared to be damaged or broken and there was no swelling along her spine.

The Potions Master opened a jar of salve, scooped a generous amount in his hand, and began to rub it gently into her bruised skin. He applied several applications, working it into her flesh. The bruising was lightening. By morning it would be gone. The salve was also a mild painkiller, and soothed her ache. Severus gently sat her up, and gave her a red vial.

"Drink that, it will help the pain," he said.

Hermione looked at it.

"This isn't purple potion," she said.

Severus smirked.

"The purple potion is more 'localized' in its properties. This will work on your back. The purple potion works primarily on your…orifices," he said delicately.

Hermione uncapped the vial and drank it down. He was right. Her back stopped hurting altogether.

Severus looked at her a bit harshly.

"Now, are you going to tell me what happened, or am I going to have to use legilimency?" he asked her sharply.

Hermione sighed.

"I'll tell you Severus, but I want you to promise you won't explode or go after Sybil," she said.

Severus scowled.

"Sybil? What's that dragonfly got to do with this?" he asked. "Anyway, why was she a dragonfly?"

"Promise me first," Hermione said.

"I will promise no such thing. If the witch has done something worth being punished for, then she'll get what she deserves," he seethed.

"Severus, you can't go beating up on witches," Hermione said.

"Who said anything about beating her? A few well-placed slaps ought to do it," he replied.

Hermione scowled at him.

"All right. I won't physically touch her," he said evenly.

"Or hex her," Hermione added.

Severus frowned. Damn it.

"Or hex her," he agreed.

"All right. She challenged me to a duel over you," Hermione said.

"A duel? Over me?" the wizard exclaimed, "The witch is mad. Insane. Albus ought to send her to St. Mungos for a few weeks."

He looked at Hermione curiously.

"So, you dueled her?" he asked.

"I didn't have a choice. I told her I wouldn't duel her and she blasted me away from your door. I landed on my back a few feet down the hallway," Hermione replied.

"She what?" Severus seethed. "You weren't even facing her?"

"I was unwarding your door," the witch said.

Murderous thoughts of strangling Sybil ran through the Potions Master's mind. Her bug eyes bugged out larger as his pale hands slowly crushed her windpipe…

"Severus! You promised!" Hermione said, alarmed by the vicious look in his eyes.

He looked at her.

"All right," he said angrily, "so how did you get her?"

"She was walking up to me, ready to hex me while I was down, and I got the drop on her and turned her into a dragonfly."

Severus chuckled a bit.

"Very fitting bit of magic," he said. Then his eyes sobered.

"I should tell Albus," he seethed.

"No, don't do that. Sybil's in love with you, Severus. She has been for years," Hermione said. "Albus will sack her and I don't think she has anyplace else to go."

Severus shook his head.

"I just don't understand how you can have compassion for someone who did you bodily harm," he said, "or someone who covets what belongs to you and you alone."

"I can heal. And what belongs to me is mine by his own admission. I don't worry about anyone taking you. If any witch does, it will be because you want her and not me. I'd just have to live with it," Hermione said softly.

"That is not going to ever happen," Severus said. Then he sighed. "Maybe Sybil got the message I don't care for her this time. The object of your affection trying to kill you is a relatively sure sign that you are not wanted."

Hermione frowned at him.

"You really did try to kill her, Severus," she said.

"I really don't like her, Hermione," he replied. "If I had crushed her, I would have said I didn't know it was her."

Hermione sighed and shook her head.

"You're terrible, Severus," she said.

"One of the things that attracted you to me in the first place," he replied, kissing her on the forehead.

The Potions Master looked down at Hermione's full breasts and sighed. There'd be no tying her to the bedpost tonight. Her back had to have time to heal. If he worked her over, the bruising and pain would return and he'd have to treat her again. Damn that bug-eyed witch.

Well, he couldn't beat Sybil and couldn't hex her, but he would certainly get her back for this.

And soon.

* * *

Hermione didn't want to leave Severus' room, so the Potions Master stripped down to his boxers and joined her in bed. They kissed and petted for a while until Severus made Hermione stop touching him. Her hands were moving over parts of him that were aching to get into parts of her. Now he lay against her back, his organ hard and tenting his boxers. He pressed himself against the witch's soft ass, trying to get some relief and only succeeding in getting Hermione to try and seduce him.

"No, Hermione. Your back," he gasped as she suckled his throat.

"My back will be fine," she purred, rubbing her body against him deliciously.

Severus groaned. He should throw the little minx out for her own good. Suddenly he climbed over her and got out of the bed.

"Where are you going?" Hermione asked him, her eyes drifting to his bulging boxers as he slipped on a housecoat and slippers.

"To my lab. I forget to finish something," he lied. "You go to sleep. I'll be back in a little while," he said.

Hermione frowned at her lover. He was trying to escape her. Ah, well. She'd just wait for him to get back. She watched as he picked up his wand. He started to leave the bedroom.

"Don't I get a good night kiss?" she asked him innocently.

The Potions Master looked back and arched an eyebrow at her, and Hermione pursed her lips exaggeratedly, artistically letting the sheet slip down a ways, revealing the swell of her breast. Severus sighed and walked back to her. He leaned down to give Hermione a chaste kiss on the lips and the witch wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into the bed with her, rolling on top of him in the sheet and raping his mouth hungrily.

Severus was in a pickle. He couldn't handle her too roughly because of her back. After a weak struggle he just gave in and let Hermione kiss him until she was satisfied, which took about five minutes. Gasping, she let him up for air, looking at him sloe-eyed as he pushed himself out of the bed and scowled down at her.

She snuggled down under the sheets, smiling at him mischievously.

"Night, night Severus," the witch said, pretending to go right to sleep.

"Minx," he growled, leaving the bedroom.

Hermione opened one eye and grinned after him.

Severus was throbbing so badly he hurt. Ooh, tomorrow he was going to shag the little succubus until…damn it…she was going out with that wizard tomorrow night. There was no telling when she'd be back

Scowling, he put a silencing spell on the study so Hermione wouldn't hear him then scooped up a handful of floo powder and tossed it into the floo. It turned green.

"The kitchens," he said in a low voice, then, "Hello? I need a house elf immediately."

There was a pop and a trembling little house elf stood in front of him.

Severus looked at the creature with annoyance. He hadn't touched a house elf in anger in years and still they trembled any time they came to serve him.

"Listen carefully. I need a bottle of sherry, the kind of sherry that Professor Trelawney drinks. Do you know who she is?" he asked the elf.

The elf nodded, his ears flat against his skull.

"Do you know what she drinks?" he asked the creature who nodded again.

"Go and get me a bottle of it now," the Professor said.

The elf nodded and winked out. In less than a minute it was back with a bottle of sherry. It handed it to Severus, bowed and winked out again, no doubt very relieved its service to the snarky wizard was over so quickly.

Severus read the name of the sherry. "Lustau Old East India Solera Reserva"

The Potions Master headed for his Potions stores.

He walked into his classroom, placed the bottle of sherry on his desk, walked over to his storeroom and unwarded it. The wizard brightened the torches then began to dig through the dusty bottles on a little used shelf. After several minutes of targeted searching, he located the bottle he was looking for, blowing the dust off it and smiling broadly as he read the label.

Severus rarely ever smiled fully unless he was up to no good or nearly killing Hermione with kindness. And the witch was currently alone in his bed…so…

The Potions Master threw the bottle up and caught it neatly in his hand, then left and warded his storeroom. Whistling a rather macabre tune, he grabbed the sherry off his desk and headed for his lab. He turned up the torches and sat the sherry bottle on the counter. Drawing his wand Severus magically removed the cork, sniffed the wine, then took out a small clean beaker from under the counter and poured about a shot into it. He needed to make room in the bottle anyway.

Severus sniffed the sherry again then held it up to see its color. Initially it seemed to be a black-looking wine, but the light displayed gold, amber, red and caramel hues all intertwined. It had a rich nose as well, with sweet, scented molasses. He looked at it once more then drank it down. The sherry actually had a nice balance with acidity, alcohol, sweet molasses and fruit all playing a part. Too bad Sybil gulped it down like water.

Severus uncapped the bottle of potion and carefully poured the entire contents into the bottle of sherry, taking his wand and circling it counterclockwise around the neck, making the contents swirl and mix evenly. Satisfied, he magically resealed the sherry and tossed the empty bottle of potion into the trash.

He returned to his study, walked over to the floo and summoned the house elf again. The small creature returned, as trembly as ever.

Severus looked at the elf.

"Listen carefully to me, elf," he said to the creature, "I want you to take this bottle up to Professor Trelawney's room and put it where she can find it. If you see another bottle like this one opened or closed, replace it with this one. And make sure to keep this secret, or else," he said to the elf soberly.

The elf reached out and took the bottle.

"I understands, sir" he squeaked, bowing to Severus and winking out.

The elf appeared in Sybil's cushioned and curtain draped bedroom. The witch was asleep in a gauzy nightgown, sprawled in her four-poster, sheer netting surrounding all four sides and a bottle of sherry on the nightstand beside her.

The elf tiptoed up to the nightstand and switched the bottles, winking out quickly as Sybil groaned and turned over.

"Severusssss," she moaned.

The Potions Master would have vomited.

* * *

Severus returned to his bedroom, removing the silencing ward on the study as he passed. He studied Hermione. She was snuggled under the sheets and turned to the wall, apparently sound asleep.

Severus let out a sigh of relief. It was hard enough just sleeping beside the witch without fucking her. It was almost impossible to resist her when she was climbing all over him, begging for it. He removed his housecoat and his slippers and quietly slid into bed beside her, praying not to wake the randy witch.

Hermione's breathing didn't change and he relaxed. But not for long. A hot little hand slid over his thigh and began to pet him, causing an instant erection.

"Hermione," he groaned as she turned over, grinning wickedly in the low torchlight.

"Welcome back," she said giving him a little squeeze, "Won't you tie me up just a little bit, Severus?"

The Potions Master looked at her for a long moment.

"All right, Hermione. You win," he said, slipping out from under the covers, walking into the study and returning with two long lengths of rope.

He moved the bedcovers, sat on the edge of the bed then abruptly ripped the sheet from her body, pulling her legs over to his lap, and tying them securely together, wrapping the rope around her ankles and between her calves. He yanked on them roughly to make sure the bonds were secure. Then he tied her hands together just as securely, making sure she wouldn't be able to work them loose. Then he threw the sheet back over the witch, climbed back into the bed, slipped under the sheets and laid his head back on the pillows. He sighed and closed his eyes.

Hermione stared at him.

"Severus, what are you doing?" she asked him.

"Getting some sleep, witch, I suggest you do the same," he replied, turning to kiss her on the forehead, then relaxing.

"But I'm all tied up," she said wriggling a little against her bonds.

"Yes, you are," he said, not opening his eyes. "Nice and neat. No more roaming hands."

Hermione let out a little scream of frustration as she realized she'd been had.

"I'm going to get you for this Severus Snape," she seethed at the wizard. She couldn't even kick him.

"Maybe you will," he said sleepily, "but not tonight."

* * *

The next morning Hermione was awakened by being dragged to the edge of the bed, her belly resting on the mattress as her legs draped down to the floor. She was still tied up, her arms stretched out on the bed above her and her legs tightly bound.

"Your back is better," breathed the Potions Master, who was on his knees behind her, lowering his silk boxers. Hermione felt one of his hands press down on the small of her back as he moved her legs aside and pressed between her tightly closed thighs, finding her entrance and forcing his way in, hissing.

"Gods, so tight," he groaned as Hermione made a mewling sound as he parted her, feeling huger than ever because of the way her legs were bound together.

"Oh Severus," she moaned.

The Potions Master leaned over her, kissing her neck as he thrust into her experimentally.

"Oh fuck!" Hermione hissed as he hit bottom.

This was almost too good.

"It feels good, doesn't it witch?" he whispered into her ear, stroking her again.

"Yesssss," she sighed. "More, Severus. Harder."

She felt him straighten, and his large hands grip her shoulders firmly. He pulled her back, arching, ramming into her brutally, his mouth dropping open as the witch shrieked under him. Severus began riding Hermione hard, jerking her roughly back and forth as he took her, biting his lip as he was squeezed, bathed and caressed by her tightness, her voice like a siren's urging him to draw closer. The wizard rotated his pelvis, groaning as he twisted inside the witch's hot sleeve.

"Gods damn you have such sweet…" he gasped, plunging in and out of the witch throwing his head back and closing his eyes in pleasure as he pummeled the shrieking witch.

Hermione hit another plateau of bliss every time her Potions Master hit bottom. He was driving into her like a jackhammer, his aching strokes pushing her closer and closer to release. Gods she loved him. Everything about him. But this…this was when she felt closest to him, when he would lose control because of her, letting go of all his discipline for her and her alone.

Hermione began to shudder and Severus felt her body temperature soar as she began tightening around him. He cursed, bending his lean muscular body over her and pouring on the power so he would come with her, letting go and just feeling her receive him. Hermione began to shudder, and Severus plunged into her as deep as he could bursting the damn, her hot flood pouring over him as she screamed shrilly.

"Yes, gods yes!" he shouted as he came with her, pulsing as he filled her, pleasure racing up and down his spine as he pressed inside her, gushing against her cervix, pouring his essence into her sweet, sweet body.

"Yes witch," he panted, his face buried in the jasmine scent of her hair and collapsing fully on her as Hermione trembled under him, riding her own perfect wave of bliss, moaning as she whirled and came to a slow, ebbing halt, aware of his weight pressing down on her body.

Severus rested there for a moment, then suddenly started, pulling out of her quickly and beginning to untie her legs rapidly.

"We have to get to breakfast, Hermione," he gasped, still feeling weak from his powerful release. Hermione wasn't ready to move yet as he climbed over her, releasing her hands and pulling her up. She was aching still, but it was a good ache…she didn't need any potion. But she would like a few more minutes of sleep. She flopped down face first into the bed.

"Just give me a couple of minutes, Severus," she said softly.

She felt the wizard move away from her, but he soon returned.

"Scourgify!" he said cleansing her, then himself. He then scourgified her knickers as well and magically dressed her.

"What…what's the rush, Severus?" she asked him as he magically dressed himself, and pulled her to her feet.

"You'll see," he said, walking the witch out of the bedroom, through the study and waiting impatiently for the wall to open so they could pass through his office and into the dungeon corridor.

He practically dragged the witch all the way to the Great Hall. They entered through the staff entrance. Severus' black eyes looked around. The students were seated at their tables, talking and serving themselves breakfast. The staff members too were ordering their meals.

"Good. It hasn't happened yet," he said, seating Hermione then himself.

"What hasn't happened yet?" Hermione asked him.

He smirked.

"Wait a while, you'll see," he said obliquely.

Hermione had a very bad feeling about this. Severus was too expectant. He had rushed her from the bedroom while she was practically still in the throes of climax. Whatever was going to happen, it had better be worth it.

Suddenly both double doors flew open and Sybil Trelawney came waltzing in, bug-eyed glasses on her face, trailing scarves…and nothing else. The witch was buck naked!

"Good morning all! Good morning Hogwarts! I feel free! Free! I've left the things that bind me behind and I am at one with the universe!' she cried, whirling her bony frame around the center aisle in ecstasy. Her small pointed breasts barely bobbled as her grayish bush stood out in all it unkempt glory.

Severus quickly disillusioned himself before the witch saw him. He had given her a potion that made the witch drop every inhibition. She would no doubt go for him if she saw him.

The entire hall was silent as they stared at the naked witch. Sybil was a bit far from the flush of youth, and although she was skeleton thin, folds of flesh draped her body. Sybil looked around, her hands on her hips. Albus was too stunned to move. Hermione had her hand clasped over her mouth. The other staff members wore expressions ranging from shock to disgust. Marcus had literally covered his eyes. Sybil was enough to throw him off witches forever.

"An audience!" Sybil said, clapping her hands together in delight, spinning again, her shapeless ass in full moon. "I will entertain you."

The Divinations Professor launched into a parody of Salome's Dance of the Seven Veils, using her scarves as veils. She writhed, twisted, and twirled, jutting out her sharp hipbones and gyrating her pelvis lewdly. The sounds of retching could be heard throughout the hall, as well as titters of laughter and groans of horror that began to grow as the witch kicked up her legs and bent over revealing her wares.

"This is awful!" Hermione gasped, turning to Severus who she realized was disillusioned.

"Severus, you did this!" she hissed at him.

The Potions Master didn't answer. He couldn't. He was caught between extreme nausea and extreme laughter, and was unable to make a sound. He was just glad he hadn't eaten yet as he watched the rail thin witch dance, a smile plastered on her face. The potion only worked for about thirty minutes. She should be coming down soon.

Sure enough, Sybil's dancing slowed, and the dreamy look in her magnified eyes faded as the laughter and the groans became audible. The witch stood stock still, looking around the Great Hall as if wondering how she got here. Then she looked down at her scrawny naked body and let out an ear-shattering scream as she tried to cover herself. Everywhere she looked there were eyes staring at her. She began to back up towards the main doors, which were still open.

Severus flicked his wand at them from under the table and the doors slammed shut. Hermione shot the shimmer that was a Potions Master a murderous look as Sybil continued to back up, bent with a horrified look on her face, tears of embarrassment streaming from her eyes. She backed up against the doors, feeling for the handles behind her. She found one and pulled at it, but the door wouldn't open as she jerked on it desperately. Finally she turned around, tearing at the handles, laughter and jeers falling on her from every side.

"Open them!" Hermione hissed at Severus, "Open those doors this instant Severus Snape, or the next time you see pussy will be at the Menagerie!"

Severus frowned at Hermione, though she couldn't see him, then reluctantly flicked his wand at the doors again, and they slowly opened. Sybil darted through them and was gone. He removed the disillusionment spell.

"Severus, that was simply horrible," Hermione said to him, her mouth drawn tight in disapproval.

"No more horrible than blasting an opponent who is not willing or prepared," he said evenly, "particularly if it is someone I care about. The witch was lucky that was all I did to her. She deserved worse."

Severus ordered his food, and didn't speak to Hermione for the rest of breakfast, eating heartily as the Great Hall buzzed around him, discussing the show Sybil Trelawney had put on for them.

Hermione stared at Severus. Gods, he was a nasty bastard when he wanted to be. But he had a point. He could have done much worse to the witch if he had been inclined. Sybil got off easy.

Hermione made another note in her head about why it was not a good thing to ever cross Severus Snape.

* * *

Severus rushed back to his rooms, and summoned the house elf he had used last night from the kitchens. He instructed the small creature to switch the bottles of sherry back and to do it invisibly if he had to. The trembling house elf did as Severus asked, winking back into the study with the bottle of drugged sherry.

To the creature's surprise, Severus patted it on the head.

"What is your name, elf?" Severus asked it.

"Name, sir?" the elf replied, a bit shocked.

No one ever asked house elves their names. They just ordered them about.

Severus frowned slightly.

"Yes, a name. You do have a name don't you? I want to know what it is," the Potions Master said evenly.

"My name is Eli, sir," the house elf said.

"Well, Eli, you have given me the best service of any house elf I've known. Would you mind if I asked you to be the one to attend me from now on?" Severus asked him.

The house elf stopped trembling, his eyes wide.

"You wants me, sir? Me alone to serves you sir?" the house elf asked him in disbelief.

"If it is possible, yes Eli," the Potions Master replied.

The elf bowed deeply.

"Oh yes, sir. Eli would be pleased to have one master! Very pleased!" the elf said.

Severus became alarmed.

"Now, wait…I didn't say…" he began.

Suddenly, the house elf began to glow, and a tendril of light stretched out from the creature and wrapped around the startled wizard. It squeezed him for a moment, covering him in warmth, then snapped back into the elf with a crack of thunder.

Severus stared down at the elf.

"What did you just do, Eli?" Severus asked.

"You is my Master now, sir," the elf beamed at him, "We only works at Hogwarts because we has no masters and are unbound, sir. The great Dumbledore takes in unbound house elves sir, and says we can find masters when we wish. We can picks and choose them sir, if we likes."

Severus just stared at the elf.

"Eli will be very admired to be the house elf of the Snape, sir," Eli said bowing again.

Severus cocked his head at him.

"And why is that, Eli?" the wizard asked him.

"Because the Snape is fierce, and any house elf that serves the Snape is very brave. I am very brave sir," Eli replied.

Severus rubbed his hand over his face.

"I didn't mean for you to bind yourself to me, Eli. I have no idea how to take care of a house elf," he said to the creature.

"No worries, sir. I cares for myself. I will remains in the kitchens and works the same. But I will only have to serves you now and keeps all your secrets. No more bad, naughty students. Eli is most grateful sir," the elf said, "Most very grateful."

The elf bowed again.

Good gods. He had a house elf. Severus had no idea Hogwarts house elves could be bound to one Master if they chose to be. He thought they were bound to the castle itself. Shit. Hermione was going to flip. She considered house elf bonding to be nothing more than slavery. He immediately decided not to tell her.

"Do me a favor, Eli…don't spread this about too much. My…my friend doesn't approve of house elf service," Severus said.

Eli's ears flattened a bit.

"Ah you means the Spells Mistress you does in-outie with. We knows of her we do. She tries to free all elves, but we don't wants to be free. We likes work and service, we do. She does not accept this still?" Eli asked the Potions Master.

Severus was shocked the elves knew he and Hermione were involved. In-outie? Merlin's beard.

"No she doesn't," Severus replied.

"Then this is the second secret Eli keeps for his Master. The first is the Sherry of the Naked Dance," the elf said, bowing again.

Sherry of the Naked Dance? Severus bit back a chuckle.

"The Mistress will never knows about me, sir, until you wishes it," Eli said, "and my magic is for you too, sir. If you is ever in danger, sir, I will protect you and yours."

Severus thought about this. Although house elves were essentially servants, they had very powerful magic. They needed no wands or spells to use it either. Maybe this wasn't such a bad thing.

"That is good to know Eli, but I don't want you randomly appearing whenever I am in trouble. I will call you when I need your help. How do I summon you if I am not near a floo?" the Potions Master asked.

"Simply says my name as a command, sir. I will always hears you, sir. I am bound to you," the elf said.

"Very well, Eli. What I need you to do now is get rid of that sherry for me, so no one will ever find it," Severus said to the elf, who smiled a bit conspiratorially.

"Yes Master, considers it done, sir," the elf replied.

"Fine, Eli…you may return to the kitchens. I will summon you when I need you," Severus said to the tiny creature.

"Yes sir. Eli is always ready to serve the Snape, sir," the elf replied, winking out with the bottle.

Severus blinked at the space the elf had occupied.

Hm. He now owned a house elf. What a morning it had been.

Sherry of the Naked Dance.

Severus chortled as he headed to class.

* * *

Severus had a tough day when he remembered tonight was the night Hermione was to accompany Lord Percival Hornswallow the 2nd for a night of dinner and dancing. His students paid for it too. He took a total of one hundred and fifty house points, assigned ten detentions with Hagrid, since Filch was gone, and browbeat several students of which three burst into tears.

Now he waited impatiently by his Potions office door to get a glimpse of Hermione before she left. He wanted to see what she'd be wearing. She was supposed to meet the wizard in Dumbledore's office promptly at eight o'clock. Kind of late for dinner.

Damn Albus.

He went immediately on point as he heard Hermione's door open. He cracked his office door and looked out just as Hermione stepped into the corridor. His mouth dropped open.

She was wearing a long, sparkling blue evening gown held up by a single strap that wrapped about her throat like a halter, her soft back exposed so low it almost stopped at the curve of her buttocks. Her hair was swept up into an elegant bun, tendrils hanging on either side, the nape of her very kissable neck revealed. She wore sapphire and platinum earrings with a matching necklace. And she seemed taller, which meant she was wearing heels, but they were hidden.

She looked delicious, too delicious. The witch began to walk up the hall and before Severus could stop himself, he was out the door.

He scowled down at the witch.

"You certainly went all out," he seethed at her.

Hermione sighed. She knew Severus wouldn't let her slip by him. She would have taken the floo to Albus' office, but sometime soot would get on her clothes. She didn't want to risk it.

"Do you like it?" she asked, spinning for the Potions Master, hoping to calm him. She knew she looked damn good.

"Of course I like it. What wizard wouldn't like it? I'm sure the Lord will love it," Severus fumed, falling in step with Hermione as she walked up the corridor.

"Severus, I dressed for the occasion, not for Lord Percival," Hermione said evenly. "The Bee's Knee's is a very exclusive club. I don't want to look like a frump."

Severus' eyes rested on his lover's lips. Hermione was wearing lipstick and it made her mouth look fuller, even more kissable. She wore eye makeup too. The witch looked stunning.

"You make sure to tell that wizard you are involved with someone," he growled.

"If it comes up in conversation, Severus, I will most certainly tell him," Hermione said as they walk out into the main hall.

She looked at Severus, who had not fallen back in the least.

"Do you intend to walk me up to Albus' office itself?" she asked him.

"Yes," the wizard hissed, his eyes locked on her.

She was so beautiful and going out with another wizard to eat and dance. He'd be holding her in his arms, feeling her soft curves…whirling her about the floor, probably thinking he'd like to shag her.

Severus felt his belly tighten, and he grew hot all over. He let out a growl.

"Did you say something, Severus?" Hermione asked as they mounted a shifting stairwell.

"No," he said sullenly.

They arrived at the doorway that led to the corridor which led to Albus' office. They stopped in front of the gargoyle.

"Licorice Lippets," Hermione said, and the statue leaped aside.

"I'll see you later, Severus," she said.

Suddenly the Potions Master grabbed her by the shoulders and tried to kiss her. Hermione shifted her head.

"No, Severus. You'll smear my lipstick," she said, pulling away.

"It better not be smeared when you get back," he growled at her, "Or I'll have to smear one Lord."

Hermione shook her head, and ran her hand across his cheek.

"Severus, there's only one wizard for me, and that's you. Stop worrying. I'm not a little girl. He's not going to sweep me off my feet. This is a duty, not a date," she said, smiling at him.

Severus still scowled. The way Hermione looked, any wizard would want to sweep her off her feet and get her on her back.

Despite what she said about her lipstick, Hermione drew Severus down and kissed him on his cheek, leaving a red lip shaped stain on his pale skin.

"I'll see you later, Severus," she said, starting to climb the stairs.

"Wait!" Severus said, moving forward.

Hermione stopped and looked at him.

"Let me see your shoes," he said.

"Severus," Hermione said, "I don't want to. I know how you are."

"Show me," he demanded, his nostrils flared.

Slowly Hermione raised the hem of her gown. She wore four-inch strapped heels, also of sparkling blue. Even her small toenails were blue and sparkling.

Severus let out a long, stuttered breath, looking up at her as she lowered the gown.

"He'd better not touch you," the wizard breathed dangerously.

"Severus, I'll see you later. I have to go," Hermione said placatingly.

Severus watched as she walked up the spiral stairwell. Then the gargoyle jumped back in place.

He spun angrily and strode back down the hall, his robes billowing, and took the stairwells back down to the main hall. He started toward the dungeons, then stopped and disillusioned himself.

He waited by the main doors.

He wanted to see what this Percival Hornswallow the 2nd looked like. Personally Severus hoped he was about one hundred and seventy-five years old, toothless and walked with a stoop. But that image didn't fit one of the wizarding world's most eligible bachelors.

* * *

Hermione heard voices coming out of Dumbledore's office. She stopped for a moment and checked herself, then knocked on the door.

"Come in," Albus called.

Hermione took a steadying breath. This was it. She turned the handle and walked into the Headmaster's office.

Albus was standing behind his desk, and standing in front of it was Lord Percival Hornswallow the 2nd.

Lord Percival was six-foot four, brown-haired and green eyed, and long lashed. He was quite handsome, with a warm smile, cleft chin and a dimple in his left cheek. He wore immaculate black dress robes tastefully embroidered with silver. His eyes narrowed for a moment as he looked at the witch appreciatively.

"Lord Hornswallow, I would like to introduce you to Miss Hermione Granger, our Good Will Ambassador. She will be accompanying you tonight," Albus said, his eyes twinkling.

The wizard bowed to Hermione, then strode over to the witch. Grasping her small hand gently but firmly, he brought it to his lips and kissed it gently.

He looked down at the witch, smiling broadly. He turned his head to look at the Headmaster.

"I must say Albus, I am feeling quite a bit of good will already," he said, then turned back to Hermione

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Granger. Thank you for accompanying me tonight," he said.

"It is an equal pleasure to make your acquaintance as well, my Lord," Hermione replied, curtseying as one did when meeting nobility.

Lord Hornswallow smiled in approval.

"Now, you have the directions, Percival?" Albus asked the wizard. Obviously they were quite informal.

"Yes, I will give them to my driver," he said, not taking his eyes off of Hermione.

"My, what a lovely little witch," he thought to himself. "Albus has outdone himself."

"Well off with you both then. Your reservations are for eight-thirty. And have a wonderful time," Albus said.

Lord Hornswallow offered Hermione his arm.

"My lady?" he said, arching one eyebrow in a way that reminded Hermione of Severus.

Hermione slipped her arm into his.

"My Lord," she said, smiling up at him.

"We are off then," he said opening the door and walking through with Hermione.

Suddenly, Percival stopped and leaned his head back into the office.

"Don't wait up for us, Albus," he said, winking.

"Oh I won't," Albus replied grinning.

When the door closed, the Headmaster said to himself with a chuckle as he sat down at his desk, "But I'll bet my last sickle on who will be waiting up for you."

Albus drew a few parchments close to him, picked up a quill and started working on some long overdue paperwork.

* * *

"So Miss Granger, Albus tells me that in addition to your Ambassador duties, you work on the side as a Spells Mistress," Percival grinned at her.

Hermione laughed.

"Well, I prefer to think it is my Ambassador duties that are on the sidelines, but yes, I am a Spells Mistress," she replied.

"And how did Albus rope you into such a position?" he asked her. Percival was well aware of Albus' manipulative ways.

"He basically said I was young, single and had to do it," Hermione replied, "and he is my boss, so here I am."

"Ah yes, the authority of the boss. Quite fortunate for me, however. You are lovely, Miss Granger. I believe I am going to enjoy our evening," Percival said sincerely.

Hermione blushed, but didn't say anything as they descended to the main hall, arm in arm.

Disillusioned, Severus' belly tightened as he saw his witch on another wizard's arm…and she was blushing! What had he said to her?

Severus studied the wizard. Tall, green-eyed, well dressed and handsome. Not to mention wealthy. What worried the Potions Master most was that the man was a Slytherin. No matter how well mannered, polite or generous a Slytherin was, you could be sure self-interest and self-gain were underneath every move he or she made.

"So, Miss Granger," Lord Hornswallow said as they walked past the disillusioned wizard, "Tell me something about yourself that few people know."

Hermione looked up at him and thought a minute. She certainly couldn't tell him she was a bit of a masochist, which was an understatement.

"I love ballroom dancing," she confessed.

Severus frowned. Hermione had never told him that. He knew she liked to dance and had taken her out once or twice to clubs, but never anyplace were there was formal ballroom dancing.

Percival grinned down at her as he opened the main doors for both of them.

"How nice," he said, "I happen to appreciate ballroom dancing as well. We can trip the light fantastic tonight."

He squeezed Hermione's arm encouragingly, and she smiled up at him.

Severus was furious. How dare she smile up at him like that…it looked like an invitation to kiss her. Shit…how was he going to monitor this situation? He followed them outside, hearing Hermione gasp.

Standing in front of the castle was a gleaming black carriage. A wizard in a top hat sat on top of it, holding reins attached to the lead horse of what appeared to be three black muggle horses harnessed in a single line with strangely shaped blankets on their backs.

Hermione looked at the horses. They were beautiful, anxiously pawing the ground, obviously ready to go.

"Lord Hornswallow, what beautiful horses. But they couldn't possibly get us to the Bee's Knee's on time," she said, looking at the beasts with wide amber eyes.

Percival patted her arm. Severus frowned blackly at the familiarity the wizard did it with. He didn't want the man touching his witch at all. It was obvious however, that he would be the entire night.

"Ah, my dear Miss Granger. I guarantee these particular horses will get us there in plenty of time," he said, then he raised his voice, calling to the driver. "Show her, Jenkins"

"Aye sir," the mounted wizard replied. He whistled and shook the reigns. Suddenly what Hermione thought were blankets on the horse's backs extended, fluttering in the night air. They were wings! Beautiful black, strong wings.

"Oh my gods, they're Pegasii," Hermione gasped bringing her hand to her mouth. "They're so rare, especially black ones, my Lord. I don't think I've ever seen them used to pull carriages."

"No, I have the only team of Pegasii in the world, Hermione. They came at great expense, but were worth every galleon. I must say my boys had a time breaking them. Riding a wild Pegasus is very dangerous. Luckily no lives were lost in the process. Now come, my dear. It is time to go," he said.

Jenkins made as to dismount to get the carriage door.

"No, you stay there Jenkins. I will help the lady in," Percival said, opening the carriage door and helping Hermione in, his hand slipping to her naked back in the process as he eyed her appreciatively again.

Severus growled as the wizard touched her flesh. The door closed and Jenkins flicked the reins.

"Fly on now, boys!" he shouted at the horses, who took off galloping then leapt into the air, their wings flapping powerfully, drawing the carriage and Hermione away into the star-filled night.

Severus watched them go, his chest feeling tight. Hermione was bound to have a wonderful time with the wizard. Her eyes were already shining with excitement when she saw the carriage. He knew she was only doing her duty, but if the wizard was taken with her, what would stop him from pursuing her further. The man was a Slytherin after all. If he didn't do it openly because she was involved, he would use his connections with Hogwarts to get her out on other outings with him.

Severus slowly walked back inside the castle, worried he was about to be outclassed. He wasn't a poor wizard by any means. He had galleons coming in by the thousands from potions he had created and patented, the residuals sent directly to his Gringotts account. Actually, he didn't have to work if he didn't want to, but he was used to working every day and the students, dunderheaded as they were, offered him challenge.

He wished there was some way he could monitor their outing. He trusted Hermione, but he didn't trust the wizard. Percival was experienced with courting witches, and Hermione had only known Severus, who was more of a "give me what I want" kind of wizard, direct and to the point. He didn't "woo" and his courtship technique was more of a lengthy seduction. Hermione had no doubts as to what he wanted from her when he zeroed in on the witch. Severus doubted Percival worked that way. He would be more circumspect, more roundabout, more cunning.

Severus walked down the dungeon corridor, his steps slow as he wondered what was going on in the carriage right now. He wished he could at least listen in on their conversation, as he did when Hermione was going to therapy…

Severus halted for a moment, then began to jog to his rooms.

He realized he had never neutralized the listening patch to the "Speak-Easy Voice Capture Kit" he had purchased from Fred and George Weasley and placed on Hermione. Maybe it still worked.

He quickly entered his rooms and walked to an area of his bookcase that had a false front. It was quite high and the book titles in front of it would not draw Hermione's attention. He unwarded the niche and removed the speaker box, closed the books back then carried the box over to the small table in front of the fireplace. He set it down carefully, then twisted the knob. He had no idea how far the patch could transmit, but it was worth a try.

There was some static, and crackling…then he heard Hermione.

"What a breath-taking view!" she was exclaiming.

"Yes, night flying is wonderful," Percival agreed, his eyes on the witch sitting across from him, leaning her face toward the window. "The stars appear so close, you feel as if you can snatch one from the sky."

"Yes," Hermione agreed, smiling.

Severus sighed with relief, as he retrieved a glass and half a bottle of firewhiskey from his cabinet and sat down in the armchair. He would hear everything.

Hermione was not alone tonight.

She had no idea she was out with two wizards.

* * *

The carriage landed in front of a large, well-lit building and the Pegasii galloped up to the covered portico. A smartly dressed wizard quickly walked up to the carriage door and opened it.

"Welcome to the Bee's Knee's," he said smiling as he helped Hermione from the carriage. When he saw Lord Hornswallow he bowed low.

"Good evening, my Lord," the wizard said.

"Good evening, Terrance," Percival replied, reaching into his pocket and slipping him a ten-galleon piece.

Percival took Hermione's arm, as Terrance led the way up the cream-colored carpeting and through the glass double doors. Plants abounded in the foyer area, and a tall stately wizard with a monocle stood behind what looked like a large podium, a huge book open before him. He was studying it, and a long line of patrons stood waiting to be let in.

Terrance halted the couple.

"Wait right here, my Lord," the wizard said with another bow. Then he walked past the long line and whispered in the maitre'd's ear. The wizard's eyes opened so wide, his monocle dropped out. Hastily he put it back in, and swiftly walked up to Percival and Hermione.

"Ah, Lord Hornswallow. It is good to see you back at the Bee's Knee's, sir," the monocled wizard said with a syrupy smile. His eyes swept over Hermione for a moment. She was a pretty witch. But then again Lord Hornswallow always had a pretty witch on his arm, fawning all over him. This one wasn't fawning however. Different class of witch altogether.

"Thank you, Alexander," Percival said, "Allow me to introduce my companion, Miss Granger."

Alexander clicked his heels together sharply, and bowed to Hermione.

"Welcome to the Bee's Knee's, Miss Granger," he said with the same syrupy smile.

"Thank you," Hermione replied, giving the wizard a small smile in return.

Alexander made a broad gesture with his hand.

"Your usual table awaits, my Lord. I will escort you there myself," he said, "Terrance, take over my desk until I return."

"Yes sir," Terrance said, moving behind the podium and beginning to service the waiting patrons.

Hermione was impressed. There had been some very distinguished-looking wizards and witches in that line. But Lord Hornswallow was ushered straight through.

To call the Bee's Knee's a club was an understatement. Hermione's eyes drifted around the establishment falling on handcrafted plaster relief ceilings, crystal chandeliers, huge Palladian windows and marble floors. A large space for dancing occupied the center of the club, and there were two levels of seating, floor and balcony. Beautifully dressed tables with lovely lighted floral centerpieces were arranged around the ballroom floor. On closer examination of one of the centerpieces, Hermione saw that tiny, naked glowing fairies sat swinging on the blooms. They were adorable.

Alexander led them to a small paneled elevator, stepping aside to let the Lord and Hermione enter first, then following, closing a small gate behind them. He pressed a button and the elevator gently ascended to the balcony area, to open on a small but well-positioned private seating area directly over the ballroom floor. Hermione noticed a little gold plaque on the wall. She peered closer.

It read: Lord Percival Hornswallow the 2nd.

"This is your own personal table?" she asked the wizard.

He gave her a wan smile.

"Yes, one of the perks of being a Lord," he said as Alexander pulled out a chair for Hermione. Percival quickly replaced him, sliding the chair in for Hermione as she sat down.

Alexander then handed Hermione a menu printed on the finest parchment she had even seen. She ran her finger down the fine grain of it.

Percival watched her closely, a small grin on his face. It was easy to see that the witch had never been in such an exclusive establishment. Appreciation filled her eyes at every new sight.

"There are no prices on this menu," Hermione said, looking at the offered items.

Percival smirked again.

"No, they don't list the prices of the courses, Miss Granger. The Bee's Knee's operates on the premise that if you have to ask, you probably can't afford it," the Lord said.

Hermione raised her eyebrows and studied the menu to see if she could figure out what the least expensive item would be. She was naturally thrifty, and since Hogwarts had arranged this outing she thought she would try to save as much money as she could for the school.

Percival seemed able to divine what Hermione was thinking. He gently pulled the menu down and looked over it at the witch. Her eyes were beautiful…like tempered gold.

"Miss Granger, although Albus arranged this outing with the intention of Hogwarts covering the cost, I have taken the expense upon myself. I know the Headmaster wants to give me some compensation for my generosity to the school, but I find it a bit perverse to donate money only to have it used to entertain me rather than helping maintain the quality education Hogwarts offers. Not a knut of tonight will be charged to the school. So please, order what you like Miss Granger, believe me when I say money is of no consequence to me," he said, smiling.

Hermione gave him a small smile in return.

"Charming," Percival thought as he looked at her.

"Though I must admit, I feel more than compensated having the company of such a beautiful young witch with which to dine," he added. "A night with you, Miss Granger, is easily worth a few million galleons."

In his rooms, Severus bristled. He didn't like the suggestiveness of that statement. Nor did he like the wizard bragging about his wealth…though he didn't do it directly. The Potions Master took a sip of his firewhiskey sullenly and continued to listen.

Hermione blushed at Percival's statement. He looked at her appreciatively. He didn't often find himself in the company of witches who could still blush. Most of them were gold diggers, who fawned and oozed sex all over him. Or at least try to chat him up from the moment they met him until the time he expelled them from his bed the next morning. Hermione hadn't asked him anything about his money, nor did she try to impress him with any of her own fine points.

Alexander stood by patiently as Hermione studied the menu. Ooh, Lobster was listed. Gods, she loved lobster. But she didn't dare. Percival noticed her eyes light up. True to his Slytherin nature, the Lord took a little peek into her thoughts. She was eating a large lobster and greatly enjoying it.

"I'll have the steak," she said to Alexander.

"Scratch that," Percival said. "She'll have the lobster, the largest one you have Alexander, with boiled corn, small potatoes and plenty of butter."

Hermione started to protest and Lord Percival furrowed his eyebrows at her.

"Miss Granger, you don't want to insult the wizard you are supposed to be showing good will to, now do you?" he said to her evenly.

"No, I don't my Lord," she said, chastened.

"Good. Then you will eat the lobster and enjoy it," he said, smiling at her, his dimple showing clearly.

"Very good, sir," Alexander said, taking Hermione's menu from her politely and starting to leave.

"Wait," Hermione said. The departing wizard paused. "Aren't you eating anything my Lord?"

Percival smiled.

"Alexander already knows my preferences. I eat the same thing every time I come here," the wizard said. "But thank you for your concern."

Alexander left.

Percival studied Hermione for a moment. Most witches wouldn't have even noticed he hadn't ordered, they'd be so intent on ordering the most expensive item on the menu for themselves. Which incidentally was the lobster. But the witch did not even think about ordering it as much as she loved it. She didn't want to take advantage of his wealth. Percival found that refreshing as well.

Severus was scowling. The wizard obviously liked to take control of a situation, and Hermione liked dominance in a wizard. She also loved lobster. How did the wizard know? Hm. Severus didn't doubt he was using legilimency on her. Hermione's mind was very easy to access, since it was usually always on high, the witch so busy thinking that she didn't notice an intrusion. Severus hoped the wizard would look deeper and see him.

Another wizard brought a bottle of wine. Percival himself took it and the glasses, expertly opening it and letting it breathe before tilting each glass and pouring a small amount in each. He passed a glass to Hermione and looked at her expectantly.

Hermione hesitated. She didn't really drink. But since the wizard was waiting for her to try the wine, she did so. It was rather sweet and fruity, and a bit acidic. It tickled her nose and she wrinkled it. Percival was delighted at her reaction. No stuffy, over-spoiled rich witch would ever wrinkle her nose in front of him.

"You like?" he asked her smiling.

"Very nice," Hermione said, "but it tickled my nose a bit."

Percival chuckled. He had a nice laugh.

"So I noticed," he said, pouring her a bit more.

They sat in silence for a bit. Percival was curious about her private life…if she was available. No time like the present.

"Ah, Miss Granger…I have a rather personal question to ask you," he began.

"If it is too personal, my Lord, you may not get an answer," Hermione responded.

"Well I hope in this case I do get an answer," he replied.

The witch certainly wasn't afraid to speak her mind. People that spoke their mind to Percival was something the wealthy wizard was in short supply of. He was generally surrounded by 'yes' wizards and witches. Miss Granger set boundaries. Usually no one attempted to. The witch was becoming more interesting by the minute.

"Then feel free to ask, my Lord," she said.

"I know Albus said you are single, but are you involved with anyone, Miss Granger?" he asked her.

Severus sat forward in his chair, listening intently for Hermione's answer.

The witch hesitated for a moment.

"Yes, I am," she replied.

"Is it serious? A relationship that might become something more? End in marriage perhaps?" he asked her.

"Well, it is a committed relationship, but no…I don't foresee marriage," Hermione replied, a bit sadly.

Both Percival and Severus caught the note of sadness in her voice.

Percival frowned slightly.

"If you don't foresee a life with this wizard, Miss Granger, I don't see how it could be serious. It is more of an affair than a relationship. A relationship is going somewhere. It sounds to me you are having an affair, something solely pleasure-oriented. And those are not serious, Miss Granger, because you can find pleasure anywhere." Percival said soberly.

Another waiter appeared with bowls of hot, steaming vegetable soup. He placed them on the table in front of each guest and withdrew.

Hermione didn't answer the wizard, but began eating her soup.

"Do you want children, Miss Granger?" Percival asked her.

"One day, yes, I'd like a family," Hermione replied, feeling a small ache in her heart as she thought about Jacob.

"In that case, Miss Granger, might I suggest that you open yourself up to the possibility of associating with a wizard who does want a true committed relationship, one that is more in line with what you desire? I am a wizard who speaks my mind, Miss Granger, even if it isn't appreciated at the time, but you are such a lovely young witch and in my opinion for you to be involved with a wizard you have no hope of marrying and having a family with is a total waste of your time, not to mention your love, if you indeed love this wizard. If you do love him and continue with him, you might end up sacrificing your own dreams, one day finding yourself childless and alone. That would be such a waste, my dear," Percival said.

The truth was Percival himself was winding down and tired of the parade of witches entering and leaving his bed. Not one was worth keeping there after a night or two. He thought he might marry and have a family. But he wanted a real wife, not a witch who was looking to land a wealthy husband and spend all his money.

Hermione seemed like a nice young witch. He couldn't sense anything false about her. Percival really would like to get to know her better. If she were involved with a wizard who didn't intend to marry her, then as far as he was concerned, she was fair game. He noticed Hermione's eyes were glistening with unshed tears. Damn, he hadn't meant to make her cry. He must have struck a chord.

"Here now, don't cry," Percival said gently, withdrawing a handkerchief from his inner pocket and offering it to her.

Severus was quiet as he listened to the wizard talk to Hermione about her relationship with him. He started a bit as he heard the wizard tell her not to cry. Hermione was crying? Gods. She wanted a family. Of course she'd want a family. Most women wanted to become mothers. He stared into the fire.

Hermione took the handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes, glad her makeup was waterproof.

"I'm sorry," she said softly.

"Don't be. Most women I meet are too hardened to cry. They hide what they feel. I can see that you don't or can't. It is refreshing to be with a woman who can still feel," Percival said softly, "I'm sorry that I went to a place that is obviously painful for you. Now dry your eyes, finish your soup and get ready for the delicious lobster that's coming."

Hermione did dry her eyes, and Percival made small talk, telling her about his family history. It was the first time anyone showed a true interest in how his family made their money rather than the money itself.

"Lodestones? Your family mined lodestones? Lodestone was the first material ever used to create wands," Hermione said, fascinated.

Percival looked impressed she knew this.

"Yes. Before it was discovered that other items such as dragon heartstring and phoenix feathers could be used as magical cores, lodestone was used to create wands. It is still used in some industrial wands today," Percival said.

"I wish I could have seen some of those wands. I would love to try one, and to even dissect one to learn how they operated. Maybe lodestone could be refined some way, brought back into the mainstream. That would be so interesting," Hermione said dreamily.

Percival looked at her, seeing an opening to see her again, outside of an Ambassador duty.

"I have hundreds of lodestone wands in my personal collection," he said, loving how the witch's eyes lit up as she absorbed this.

"You do?" Hermione said excitedly.

Severus groaned. The wizard had discovered Hermione's weakness…her love of knowledge.

"Yes, I do. Perhaps you could visit my Manor one day, and I will give you a personal tour. I might even have a wand I could spare for experimentation," he offered.

"Oh that sounds wonderful!" Hermione exclaimed. Then she sobered.

"Well, I'd have to see if I could arrange that," she said quietly. "I'll have to let you know, my Lord."

Severus knew Hermione had thought of him and how he would react to her visiting another wizard, even if it only was to see a collection of wands. It was as if all joy had left the witch in that moment. She knew she could never see that collection. Severus would never allow it.

Percival divined that she would not come to see the collection as long as she was with the wizard she was currently involved with, which led him to believe the man was probably very possessive of the witch. Well, Percival couldn't blame him. Miss Granger seemed as if she could be quite a treasure. Treasures were always targeted for theft.

"You do that, Miss Granger," he said.

Suddenly a waiter appeared carrying a huge platter which held a lobster that had to weigh at least ten pounds.

"Oh my gods. That's the biggest lobster I've ever seen!" Hermione had exclaimed.

The witch had attracted attention several times with her exclamations in the club, patrons looking over at them from the other side of the balcony, wondering who the loud, mannerless witch was. Percival was delighted with her outbursts. It was just what he needed, some real emotion in his life. Fuck the socialites. He was enjoying himself.

And when Hermione started eating, he enjoyed himself more, simply because she was so appreciative of the meal. She hadn't had lobster in ages and didn't mind telling him so as she dipped large pieces of the tail in butter and swallowed them down. Most of the people Percival knew had it at least twice a week, and ate it slow and quietly, in chaste small bites.

Not Hermione. While her manners weren't atrocious, it was clear she believed in enjoying a meal as it should be enjoyed. She was halfway through her food, when she noticed Percival's meal hadn't arrived yet.

"You haven't received your food yet, my Lord. It's taking a very long time," she observed.

"That's because it is a special order," the wizard replied.

Suddenly a waiter appeared with a small white bag on a platter and a drink in a big white covered paper cup, with a straw sticking out of it. Hermione furrowed her brow as the platter was set down in front of Percival. The wizard opened the bag and took out a wrapped sandwich, and some French fries. He turned the bag around partially as he did so. Hermione looked, and her eyebrows went up.

"McDonalds?" she asked, bursting out laughing.

Percival paused in unwrapping his Big Mac.

"Not just any McDonalds. This food comes from America, from a McDonalds on Route 110 in Amityville, NY. I was there once on business. Something about removing ghosts from some house on Ocean Street or something else…whatever. And I stopped at the McDonalds and had a Big Mac, Fries and a Coke. It is my favorite food. I've tried other McDonalds but none taste like the food from that particular store," he said.

Hermione laughed some more.

"That has to be psychological, my Lord. They all make their food the same way," she said.

Percival frowned. "I beg to differ. One store had to audacity to put mustard on my Big Mac. Atrocious! Anyway, someone port keys to that store and purchases my meal and brings it back here. That's why it took so long. Now if you will excuse me."

He bit into his Big Mac, and a look of bliss crossed his face as he chewed. He then took a sip of coke and popped a few French fries into his mouth. Percival swallowed.

"Absolute ambrosia," he sighed, which made Hermione start laughing again.

Severus sat solemnly in his armchair, listening to Hermione laugh, obviously enjoying the company of the wizard. He sighed.

The couple finished their meal and had a bit more wine. Hermione had quite a bit of lobster left, and asked the waiter for a doggie bag. The poor wizard looked absolutely scandalized. Percival laughed and told the man to make one for Hermione and to put it in the kitchen cooler. They would retrieve it on the way out.

Music began and couples whirled out on the dance floor, moving elegantly. Hermione looked down on them wistfully.

"So beautiful," she breathed as she watched the witches twirl in their gowns.

"Yes," Percival said looking at the witch, "Beautiful indeed."

The wizard stood up suddenly and held out his hand.

"What do you say we join them, Miss Granger?" Percival asked.

"Oh, yes my Lord," she said breathlessly, buoyed by the meal and good wine.

Percival led her on to the elevator, looking at her face. It was flushed with excitement. He grinned. He couldn't remember the last time he enjoyed a witch's company so much without it being sexual in nature. Possibly he was enjoying himself because he knew tonight would not end up with him intimately involved with the witch he was with. Which was also refreshing. He believed Miss Granger was the kind of witch that would need to actually feel something other than lust for the wizard who took her, and that was exactly the kind of witch he was looking for. He would very, very much like to see her again.

The elevator descended to the main floor, and Percival led her through the tables to the dance area, and swung her out in a large arc before pulling her to him lightly. Then they began to dance. It was absolutely magical to Hermione. They began with a waltz, then a fun foxtrot, tried their hand at swing, which was hilarious, then a rumba, a very enthusiastic polka and ended with a very, very sexy tango.

The tango was what hooked Lord Percival Hornswallow the 2nd on one Hermione Granger.

"My gods you can tango," he breathed down at Hermione, who was sexily arched over his arm at the end of the song, a rose between her teeth.

She had no idea where the rose came from. Percival had snatched it out of an arrangement as they whirled past a table, much to the surprise and consternation of the people sitting at it. Hermione was rubbing off on him.

The wizard had gotten a peek at her shoes and realized she was much shorter than she appeared. But he didn't mind a petite woman, particularly one as appealing as Hermione was.

Percival slowly pulled Herimone up and looked at her panting with quite a glint in his green eyes. Her skin had a soft sheen of perspiration on it, and she glowed beneath the torchlight. She smiled at him happily.

"I'm parched," she said as she took his arm.

"I'm a bit thirsty myself," he said.

The wizard noted the time. It was getting late and he had a business meeting in the morning. He looked at Hermione a bit longingly as he walked her to the elevator. They ascended to the private dining table, and Hermione drank a large glass of water while Percival finished off the wine.

"I had an absolutely wonderful time tonight my Lord," Hermione said, still smiling.

And she really had.

The wizard saw another possible opening.

"Miss Granger, we could have other wonderful nights just like this one, if you would permit me to call on you," Percival said, taking her hand.

Hermione looked at him, her smile fading.

"I'm sorry my Lord, as I said, I am already involved with someone," she said.

"Yes, I know. Someone who will probably take you no further than his bed until all your youth, beauty and fertility are gone," Percival said, somewhat bitterly. Then he realized exactly how bitter he sounded as Hermione looked at him.

"I'm sorry," he said, "It's just…Miss Granger…I am around witches all the time. They are all so false, so practiced, so focused on landing a rich husband. I snap my fingers and they jump into my bed. Out in public, they are the perfect socialites, not a hair out of place, not a chip in a nail. They don't laugh. They titter. It's like dating a legion of mannequins. I actually had fun tonight, and I find it very appealing that you are not trying to crawl between my sheets because I'm wealthy. You are real and alive and imperfect and lovely. Obviously, you are loyal as well."

"All the things I want in a witch, you have shown me in one night. I desperately want to get to know you better, socially and if you are so inclined, more than socially. But you are with someone you admit has no future with you, and are faithful to him. I want a relationship, a wife and a family. This wizard you have doesn't see how much more you can be than just a lover. I see it. I see it clearly. So yes, I sound a bit bitter, and I'm sorry. I am a wealthy man, but I cannot buy the things I want the most. True happiness and a woman that loves me for me," Percival said softly. "Your wizard is very lucky, if very foolish. He should marry you before someone steals you away. Someone like me."

Hermione felt badly for the wizard and patted his hand sympathetically.

"Keep looking my Lord. You'll find the witch you want someday," she said softly.

"I think I have," Percival thought.

He smiled at her.

"It's getting late, Miss Granger. Now that I have poured out all my hopes, dreams and bitterness on you…I think it best I get you back to Hogwarts," he said rising and helping her from the chair.

The couple took the elevator down. Instead of heading out the door, Percival made a sharp right through a door that clearly read: EMPLOYEES ONLY.

"Where are we going?" Hermione asked him looking around a bit nervously. They weren't supposed to be in here.

"To the kitchens of course," Percival smiled down at her, "We must retrieve your 'doggie bag.'"

* * *

Lord Hornswallow's carriage landed and pulled up in front of Hogwarts, the Pegasii neighing and pawing at the ground. Percival opened the carriage door, exited and helped Hermione out. They stood there looking at each other, Hermione holding her doggie bag of lobster in one hand.

"It was a delightful night, Miss Granger. One I wish would never have come to an end. But as you know, all good things must come to an end," the wizard said, his green eyes sober.

"This is true," Hermione replied a bit nervously. He looked like he wanted to kiss her, and he did want to. Very much.

"I would ask you for a goodnight kiss, Miss Granger, but I have a feeling you would refuse me," Percival said softly, looking at her mouth longingly.

"Your feeling is correct, my Lord. My lips and every other part of me belong to another," she replied.

"A very lucky wizard. I only hope he truly appreciates what he has," the wizard said, bitterness again leaking through. He lifted her hand. "He wouldn't mind if I kissed your hand, would he?"

"I'm sure he would," Hermione responded.

Percival brought Hermione's hand to his mouth anyway, kissing it softly.

"That's his problem, then," the wizard replied, releasing the witch's hand and giving her a courtly bow.

"Good night, Miss Granger," Percival said, climbing into the carriage and closing the door. He leaned out of the window and smiled at her.

"Good night, my Lord," Hermione responded, turning and entering the castle.

Lord Percival Hornswallow the 2nd sat there for a bit, looking after the witch. Finally he stirred.

"Home, Jenkins," he called up to the driver.

"Aye, my Lord," Jenkins called back, flicking the reigns. "Fly on now, boys. Home to the Manor!"

The team of Pegasii neighed and took off, drawing the carriage behind them.

It contained one very thoughtful and rather calculating wizard. Percival wasn't used to taking 'no' for an answer.

He was a Slytherin after all.

* * *

After the carriage disappeared into the night, a slight shimmer made its way from behind a nearby tree and up the castle stairs. The main door opened, and the shimmer sidled through.

It turned down the dungeon corridor.

* * *

A/N: And that is the end of Part 3. Thanks for reading. 


	4. You Promised It Would Be Forever Part 4

**You Promised It Would Be Forever Part 4**

On her way down the corridor, Hermione did a few dance moves, gliding from one side of the hall to the other and twirling with her eyes closed. She had a lot of fun tonight. She loved dancing.

Severus, still disillusioned, watched the witch pirouette and sway with mixed emotions. Normally he would be consumed with jealousy, but to be honest the witch had done nothing wrong and had fun. Yes, with another wizard, and he didn't like that. He also didn't like that Percival had tried to get her to let him call on her. What probably checked the Potions Master's rage was that the wizard just didn't want to shag Hermione. He wanted to get to know her, and saw her as a witch that he could possibly settle down with. He also saw Severus as a wizard unworthy of having her because he didn't have the same goals as she did.

Severus realized that it was possible that someone else could steal the witch away from him, someone willing to offer her more than a good hard screw. Severus also realized that he did nothing with Hermione besides have his way with her. He really didn't take her anywhere farther than his bed. And he wasn't a poor wizard, or a miserly one. She just never asked him to do anything else with her, but obviously she enjoyed going out, dancing, eating and having a good time.

It sort of pained him to hear her say how long it had been since she had her favorite food, and it was another wizard who had provided it for her. Lobster? Hell, he could buy her as much lobster as she wanted. He could dance too. He did a mean tango, and not just horizontally. And look at her now, so beautiful, dancing and humming her way down the corridor.

He wanted to go to her, to talk to her, to try and find out what she really wanted from him. Most of all he had to decide if he could give it to her. If he couldn't…he would have to let her go to find her happiness. Let her go. Gods. How could he do that? They had been through rough times, but in the beginning, Hermione had been the only human being on earth outside of Albus that accepted him as he was. And he was a hard, cold wizard for the most part until she melted the ice around his heart by giving and giving until her love connected with him. It had taken time but she was dedicated to him, willing to undergo his rages and ravishments until she was almost broken. Then she would recover and come to him again and again.

This time too, Hermione was giving and giving. What was he really giving the witch in return for her love other than a hard shag? Now, he finally understood that underlying sadness. She loved him, but she believed it would never get any better between them. Every hope and dream for a future with him was ruined. She had lost her child. She had lost her husband as a result of losing that child. Now she had him back as a lover, but not a husband. There were no more children in her future as long as she had him like this.

Severus saw that Hermione was motivated by guilt. She had divorced him, and realized she still loved him, seduced him, though he was willing to be seduced…then she just stopped trying to move forward. She would rather be a martyr and sacrifice all her dreams and hopes of a family to please him, to try and make up for what she'd done to him.

Lord Percival was willing to offer her something she dearly wanted. But she denied it because of him. The wizard had been right…the path they were on was leading nowhere. Something had to be done.

Hermione was at her door now, opening it. Severus walked up to her and removed the disillusionment spell, startling the witch. She jumped.

"Hello, Severus," she said, looking up at him. Her shoes made her much taller.

"Hello Hermione," he said to her softly, "I see your lipstick's not smeared."

She gave him a small smile.

"No, it's not," she said.

"I imagine Lord Hornswallow wanted to smear it a bit," he commented.

Hermione looked at him and decided to tell him the truth.

"He said he would have asked me for a kiss if he didn't think I'd refuse him. He did kiss my hand though," she said in a small voice, waiting for the jealousy to come out of her lover.

To her surprise, Severus didn't explode.

"May I come in, or are you too tired?" he asked her.

Hermione blinked up at him.

"You know you are always welcome in my rooms, Severus. Come on," she said, walking in.

Severus followed her in and closed the door behind him.

She walked into her bedroom.

"Are you planning on staying the night?" she called to the wizard.

Severus was quiet for a moment. He walked to the bedroom door and leaned on the frame, looking at her. She looked so lovely.

"That all depends. Do you want me to stay?" he asked her.

Hermione turned to look at him, her brow furrowed.

"Of course I want you to stay, Severus. I love sleeping with you, " she replied, starting to unpin her hair. "Is something wrong?"

Severus wanted to say, "Yes, everything's wrong," but he didn't reply.

Instead, he walked over to her bed, sat down on the end of it, and began to remove his boots and socks. He tucked his socks into his boots and slid them neatly under her bed. Then he began to unbutton his robes, watching Hermione undress.

"You looked beautiful tonight," he said. Hermione looked at him and smiled.

"Thank you Severus," she said, "I only wish it were you and I out on the town tonight. It would have been nice. Different."

"I'll take you out next weekend. Any place you want to go, Hermione," he said, peeling off his robes.

"Oh good, we can go to the Three Broomsticks," she said smiling at him as she unfastened her halter, and slid her gown down, revealing her breasts.

"No, not the Three Broomsticks. I can afford to take you someplace much nicer than that," Severus said, working on his shirt. "Someplace with atmosphere, good food, high prices, dancing."

Hermione was in the process of sliding her gown down over her legs when she said this. She stopped and looked at the wizard.

"Severus, what wrong? If this is about tonight…you don't have to do that. It's all right," she said.

Severus scowled at her as he removed his shirt, revealing his pale torso.

"But you enjoyed yourself tonight, didn't you?" he asked her.

"Yes, yes I did actually," she replied.

"Well I want you to feel you can enjoy yourself with me, Hermione," the wizard said. "I don't take you any farther than my bed or your bed."

Hermione looked at Severus strangely for a moment. He had echoed Lord Hornswallow's very same words. Now she was in her knickers and the high-heeled shoes. Severus gazed at the witch appreciatively, but didn't say anything as she sat down in the chair and took them off.

"Well, I'd say you take me much farther than the bed, Severus," she purred at him, a dirty little smile on her face.

Severus couldn't help giving her a smirk as he removed his trousers. He left his boxers on, picked up his clothing and carried them over to her wardrobe, hanging them up. Hermione looked at him a bit oddly. He never used her wardrobe to put his clothes in before. It was kind of comforting.

"Hermione, I treat you like a plaything," he said, "and you are more than a plaything. I know why you are willing to let me treat you this way. You still feel guilty about divorcing me. So it's all about what I want. I make demands on you constantly. You never make any on me. Not the slightest ones, until it is involving sex. And even that's for my pleasure."

Hermione looked at him but didn't say anything.

Severus walked back over to the bed.

"Did you tell that wizard you were involved with me?" Severus asked her.

Hermione nodded.

"What did you tell him exactly?" the dark wizard asked her, hoping she would tell him the truth.

"I said I was in a committed relationship," she said shortly.

"And what did he say?" Severus asked her, his black eyes glinting.

Hermione looked at him. Her eyes began to fill up with tears but she blinked them away quickly.

"He didn't say anything," she lied, "he accepted it."

"He didn't ask you how serious it was? Most wizards would ask that," the Potions Master commented.

Hermione stood up suddenly.

"Severus, I don't want to talk about this. The final outcome was he knows I am involved with a wizard I am very loyal to, and not interested in seeing anyone else. Ok?" she said, a bit vehemently.

Severus studied her. She didn't want him to know that the wizard said he was a waste of time. She didn't want to think of him that way. She didn't want to think about her future.

Suddenly the wizard stood up, walked back over to her wardrobe took out his robes and slipped them on.

"I'll be right back," he said, exiting the bedroom.

Hermione took the opportunity to cry while Severus was gone. It was a quick cry, and she dried her eyes as best she could before he returned.

He hung his robes back up then walked over to her and pulled her out of the chair roughly and held her tight against him.

"You tell me, and you tell me now what you want witch." he hissed, looking down at her, his eyes glinting

Thinking Severus was moving into "kindness" mode, Hermione said, "Only a little kindness, Severus."

"No, what you want beyond that. Beyond being in my bed," he said darkly.

Hermione looked up at him confused.

"Do you want children? A family? A husband, Hermione?" the wizard asked her, shaking her a bit.

Hermione's eyes began to glisten.

"I'm happy with what I have with you, Severus. I have you back in my life. That's all I wanted," she said softly.

"That's not what I asked you, witch," he said angrily, "Do you want a family? Children? A husband?"

"Not if it can't be you, Severus," she said, breaking down and sobbing, burying her face in his pale chest.

Severus looked down at the witch.

"You love me that much, do you Hermione? So much that you would give up having what other witches have? A husband, children, a family of your own, to remain with me as we are?" he asked her softly.

"Yes," she said brokenly. "I can't bear the thought of you out of my life, Severus. If I went for those things, I wouldn't have you. And I still love you, even though you've lost that kind of love for me. I know you care at least. You've shown me that. I can live with that."

"No one should have to make that kind of choice, Hermione. It's too much of a sacrifice. You deserve a husband and children," Severus said gently.

Hermione looked up at him…tears streaming.

"You're going to stop seeing me, aren't you Severus?" she asked him, feeling her heart breaking.

Not again. Not after all this. He couldn't turn away from her after all this.

Severus didn't reply. He just continued to hold her tight against him.

"This time you're really going to walk away from me, aren't you?" she said against his chest. "You aren't going to be my lover anymore, are you?"

Severus drew a deep breath.

"No, I'm not going to be your lover anymore, Hermione. I can't. Not knowing what I know that you want and are willing to give up for me," he said quietly.

"But I love you," she whispered against his chest.

"I know you do, Hermione. I've known for quite a while now," he replied. "That's why I can't be your lover anymore."

Severus tried to pull away from Hermione, but she clutched him to her tightly.

"Severus, I don't want you to leave me!" she cried out against him.

She felt the Potions Master pull one of her arms from around his waist and grip her wrist tightly as she struggled to replace it.

"Who said anything about leaving you?" he said softly, slipping something cold over her ring finger. "Do you remember this?"

Hermione opened her eyes and looked at what rested on her finger.

She burst into tears again.

It was her original wedding ring.

* * *

Hermione sobbed against Severus' chest staring at her wedding ring as he stroked her hair gently.

"You will marry me again, won't you Hermione?" he asked her softly, "The Ministry has taken that law off the books. This time it will be forever. There will be no escaping me, witch."

"Yes," Hermione said tearfully, "Oh yes, Severus."

"Good," he said, pulling her away from him and looking down at her tear-stained face.

He kissed her gently, capturing her lips between his own and suckling them gently until he felt her responding. He moved his mouth against hers sensually. Finally her lipstick was smeared.

Hermione pulled away from him, and laughed through her tears as she saw his lipstick stained mouth.

"Red is definitely not your color, Severus," she said, walking into the bathroom. First she used a bit of cold cream to remove her makeup, then brought out a cream moistened tissue for her fiancé.

"Hold still," she said, wiping at the Potions Master's mouth, removing the lipstick.

Severus licked his lips and made a face.

"That tastes awful," he commented, wiping his mouth with his hand.

Hermione looked at her ring.

"You kept it," she said softly.

Severus looked down at the ring on her finger, his heart full.

"Of course I kept it. And my own," he said holding up his hand so Hermione could see he wore his own wedding band.

Hermione almost burst into tears again as she saw his ring.

"Why did you keep them?" she asked him.

"I don't know. Possibly because they reminded me of the love we once shared. I couldn't let it completely go," he said softly. "It was supposed to last forever. We promised each other that."

Hermione looked up at Severus as he stared at his ring, his face somber. She felt a strong pulse of desire wash over her.

"Take me to bed, Severus," she said in a low voice, "show me a bit of kindness."

He looked down at the witch and instantly hardened.

"I'll show you more than kindness, Hermione," he said silkily, sweeping the witch up into his arms and kissing her passionately as he carried her to the bed.

He laid her down gently on top of the sheets, his black eyes on her blue knickers.

"Let's get rid of these," he breathed, hooking his fingers into the sides of them.

Hermione lifted her hips so he could slide them down over her legs.

Severus removed them in one swift motion, bringing them to his nose and sniffing deeply, his eyes heating up as he flung them to the floor.

The Potions Master slid his boxers off, swollen throbbing and ready for action. He climbed into the bed, and slid on top of the witch, his eyes locked to her face. He grasped the hand her ring was on, and pressed the palm of it to his lips.

"I don't want you to take this ring off, Hermione," he said to her.

"I won't, Severus. Never again," the witch replied softly.

The Potions Master stared down at her a moment, then he pulled her legs up, trapping them under his arms. He positioned himself against her entrance.

"I still love you Hermione," he whispered as he slid inside the witch gently, stretching her around his girth, his face contorting with pleasure as she received him, "I never stopped loving you. I just didn't realize it until tonight. I'm sorry, so sorry my love."

Hermione let out a choked sob as she felt Severus enter her and heard him whisper the words she thought she'd never hear him speak again.

"Say it again, Severus," she moaned as she felt him moving within her, stroking her gently, shifting his hips back and forth, trying his best to give her as much pleasure as he could.

Severus groaned as he felt her warmth around him, warm, wet and welcoming. He wanted to take the witch slow, to make love to her, to touch every part of her being and bring her to the heights without violence this time, but with love. He wanted her to feel his love.

"I love you," he said again, dropping to her mouth and possessing it as he drove into her body gently, but insistently as her hips rose to meet him, hitting bottom and pressing into her, making the witch gasp with pleasure.

Hermione wasn't shrieking, but her soft gasps struck a chord in him just the same as he took her.

"Harder, Severus," she groaned, but the Potions Master was determined to bring her to orgasm without battering her. He needed to know that his love could satisfy her.

"Feel me witch," he said to her. "Feel who I am, what I am to you. Accept me this way. My love is driving me now. Feel it."

He rotated his pelvis, twisting into the witch and she groaned loudly.

"Oh gods, Severus," Hermione gasped as he caressed every part of her tight walls with his hardness.

"Yes," he breathed, "You sweet, sweet witch. Can you feel me?"

The wizard sped up his stroke, plunging into the witch but not breaking against her. Hermione was crying out, but not from his ache this time. It was something more, something almost unbearably sweet as his strong body moved against her, jerking her gently, hungrily, seeking something other than her usual response.

"I love you," Severus repeated, knowing those words affected Hermione, and she arched up against him in response, feeling the bubble growing inside her.

"Tell me how you feel about me, witch," he gasped as her juices squished under his stroke.

"I love you," Hermione gasped.

"Tell me again," he said, his hips rising and falling faster and faster. He could feel her body heat up as her sleeve tightened around his shaft. Damn. Damn.

I…I love you!" Hermione cried, pulling him closer, her body rocking beneath him.

"Show me," Severus demanded. "Come for me. Bathe me witch," he groaned, feeling his own climax approaching, his pleasure burgeoning, growing, swelling as he buried himself in and out of Hermione's body. He released her legs, pistoning into her, staring down at her, the witch meeting his eyes, her hungry gaze unfocused and lovely and all for him.

"You're so beautiful," Severus gasped, finally applying power, seeking the gold, bursting that sweet bubble of need, Hermione gasping, crying out his name as she melted around him, and felt her lover stiffen and release, his arms locking around her body, his mouth locking to hers as the shuddering wizard poured his hot love inside her body, pulse after powerful pulse.

"Fuck!" Severus breathed as pulled away from her mouth for a moment, before diving back in, his tongue plowing deeply into her heat as she flowed over him. The wizard clutched Hermione close, almost crushing her as his release slowed and stopped, his heart pounding against her chest as he panted into her mouth.

Their lovemaking had been short, but sweet. The night wasn't over yet. But damn, she had been exquisite. And Severus told her so, his voice breaking.

Hermione looked up at him, love apparent in her eyes as well as wonder.

"I don't think you'd ever taken me so tenderly, Severus," she whispered.

"Did you like it?" he asked her, brushing her damp hair from her forehead and kissing it gently.

"Yes," she replied.

Severus smiled at her, a broad full warm smile that softened his features. He didn't smile often, and Hermione felt a warmth flow over her as she drank his smile in.

"There are going to be changes, witch. All for the better," he said, rubbing his large nose against hers affectionately.

"But there will still be kindness?" Hermione asked him. She still had her darker needs after all.

"There will always be kindness where you are concerned," the wizard replied, kissing her again, then rolling off her reluctantly, drawing her tight against his chest.

Hermione lay there against him, listening to his strong heartbeat.

After a few moments she asked him, "What do you think Albus is going to say about this? Our remarrying?"

"I think," Severus said soberly, "that he is going to be absolutely delighted his manipulations worked. I must say, I don't appreciate his tactics, but that wizard certainly knows how to get his point across."

Hermione thought about this a moment, then realized Severus was right. The Headmaster had been interfering the entire time. From her hiring right down to her 'Ambassador" duties.

"One thing is for certain," Severus said, his voice rather cold.

"What is that?" Hermione asked, looking up at the now scowling wizard.

"He's definitely going to need to find another ambassador."

* * *

After Sybil fled the Great Hall, Albus hung back a bit to give the witch time to dress and collect herself. Then he left the hall, accompanied by Professor Flitwick, and headed for the North Tower. He found the door warded as he suspected it would be, and after one or two tries, let himself into Sybil's room.

The witch was beside herself, wailing that she didn't know what happened, and that she had to leave Hogwarts. Obviously she had a glass or two of sherry before making her decision. Albus wasn't sure what happened, but knew magic had been afoot. After trying to talk to the distraught witch, Albus mercifully stunned her as Flitwick combed her room, searching for anything that might have caused her bizarre behavior.

He found nothing.

Albus discreetly entered the stunned witch's mind and saw her attack on Hermione, as well as her stint as a dragonfly, and Severus' rather animated attempt at killing her. He was rather shocked at this. He knew immediately that his Potions Master had something to do with the incident in the Great Hall. But since he could find no solid evidence to the fact, and Sybil's attack on the Spells Mistress had gone unreported, as well as Severus' attempt at murdering the transformed witch, he had to let it go. He was a bit relieved about it really. Some sacking would have definitely been in order.

He obliviated Trelawney's memory about the entire naked incident, and left the witch sprawled in her bed to recover. The Headmaster sent a self-destructing memo to his staff members telling them not to mention the incident at all. As far as the students were concerned, they might laugh or grimace about the incident, but it was very unlikely they would actually bring up what happened with the witch to her face. Sybil would be fine. He left the memories of Hermione transforming her into a dragonfly and Severus trying to kill her however, in the hopes that the witch would finally get the message that Hermione was not a witch to be trifled with and his Potions Master was in no shape, way or form interested in the Divination teacher.

* * *

Hermione made quite a stir when she arrived at breakfast with her wedding band on. Severus refused to let her take it off, despite her argument that they were not yet married. The witch and wizard were ogled quite thoroughly as the staff noticed the symbols of love and eternity wrapped around their fingers. Albus' eyes twinkled particularly brightly, and he waited impatiently in his office for the couple to come to him. As he suspected, Hermione's night out with Lord Hornswallow had given the Potions Master the push he needed.

Hermione and Severus had made love all night long, and both were looking a bit tired as they lit into their breakfast. Both had healthy sized meals of eggs, sausage and pancakes, which was totally consumed. Good thing it was Saturday. They would have never made it through classes.

Midway through breakfast, Hermione was suddenly surprised by the arrival of a great golden owl, wearing the crest of one Lord Hornswallow. It carried a long thin package. Hermione removed the package and gave the owl a nice bit of sausage. It swallowed the savory meat down, hooted a thank you and took off, presumably to return to Percival's Manor.

Both Hermione and Severus looked at the package, the Potions Master scowling as he did so. Lord Hornswallow certainly didn't waste any time.

Hermione quickly unwrapped the package, exclaiming as she saw the lodestone wand the wizard had sent her. A small placard read:

**_A gift for a lovely witch. Enjoy. P.H._**

"Oh, how thoughtful!" Hermione said, smiling and examining the wand which was about the girth of a broomstick, without stain or polish. It had been sanded smooth however and was almost bone colored.

"What is that?" Severus asked her, frowning," "It looks like a stripped tree limb.

"It's a lodestone wand," Hermione said, dying to try it out.

Severus frowned down at it for a moment, then said, "A wand, eh? I will have to write Lord Hornswallow and thank him for the lovely wedding present."

He returned to his breakfast

"Umm hmm," Hermione agreed absently as she stroked the thick wand appreciatively, completely unaware that most of the male students and a couple of staff members were staring at her.

Feeling eyes on them, Severus looked up scowling to see quite a few glassy eyed students staring up at him. He looked over at Hermione. The witch was caressing the shaft of the thick wooden wand, staring down at it, her lips parted, the tip of her tongue slightly extended. She had no idea how erotic she looked as she gave the wand the equivalent of a hand job in front of the entire student body.

Severus leaned over to her, smirking slightly.

"Hermione, unless you want every male student in the Great Hall to have to return to their houses to change their trousers, I suggest you stop rubbing that wand," he said in a low voice.

Hermione looked up into a few dozen pairs of lust-glazed eyes and flushed horribly, quickly wrapping the wand back up.

"Severus! Why didn't you tell me?" she hissed at him, hurriedly picking up her fork in order to do something normal with her hands.

"I did tell you," the wizard said, still smirking.

For the rest of that week, Hermione's small hands had the starring role in many young wizards' fantasies. A few of the older ones as well, Flitwick among them. He had a thing for small hands after all.

* * *

"Congratulations!" Albus cried, rising from behind his desk, walking around it and enfolding the couple in a great crushing hug.

Hermione almost couldn't breath as she was squished against the Headmaster's thin but sturdy frame, and Severus was about to lose his air supply as the crook of Albus' elbow squeezed his neck tightly. Thankfully, the hug only lasted about ten seconds. Albus released them.

"Thank you, Headmaster," Severus rasped, rubbing his throat.

"Yes, thank you," Hermione wheezed as she gasped for air.

Albus sat back down, beaming at the couple as they each took a chair.

"Finally, all is as it should be," he said, his blue eyes twinkling.

"You worked at it hard enough, you old meddler," Severus said under his breath.

Hermione nudged the wizard with her elbow, glaring at him.

"Did you say something, Severus?" the Headmaster said, his smiling broadening. He had heard the Potions Master and was tickled the wizard knew he had been outmaneuvered from the first.

"Ah…no," Severus replied, his black eyes shifting to Hermione, who had her arms folded and her brow furrowed. She relaxed when he answered in the negative.

"Did you enjoy your night out with Lord Hornswallow, Hermione?" Albus asked, rubbing the final rock cake that broke the back of the Potions Master's indecision squarely in his face.

"It was fun," Hermione said, as Severus scowled.

"Tell me about it," Albus said.

Hermione looked at Severus hesitatingly. Damn, he was going to get so jealous about this. But the Headmaster wanted to know, so Hermione began to tell him and really got into it, saying how she was served the largest lobster she had ever seen, laughing about Percival sending to America for a Big Mac, fries and a Coke from a certain store and all the dancing they did.

Albus exclaimed and laughed along with her, as Severus' scowl got blacker and blacker.

Finally when they finished reliving Hermione's first night out, Severus said, "Of course you know, Headmaster, you are going to have to find another Ambassador. My wife will not be escorting any wizards about other than me."

Severus looked down his nose at Hermione.

"And you will have just as much, or more fun with me as you did with Lord Hogswallow," he said darkly.

Severus meant it too. He had been leafing through a muggle paper and found out there was a new amusement park with horrendous rides with equally horrendous names such as. "The Circle of Death," "Crash and Burn," and even one named "Don't Go on That"

An outing there ought to flush Hermione's little cheeks. The Potions Master grinned wickedly.

"That's Hornswallow, Severus," Hermione corrected him.

Severus shrugged.

"Whatever," he replied. "Now Albus, about our upcoming wedding…"

Albus held up his hand.

"I think I have an even better idea than a wedding, Severus. I've done some poking about on my own…" he began.

Severus folded his arms.

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" the Potions Master growled.

Hermione nudged him again with her elbow.

"Shhh Severus," she said, "tell us, Headmaster…what is this idea?"

Albus told them.

"You really think that could be done, Albus?" Hermione asked, using the Headmaster's first name in her excitement.

"I don't see why not, Hermione. On Monday morning we will all go down to the Ministry and see about it," the Headmaster smiled at her.

"Oh Severus!" Hermione said, flinging her arms around the wizard and kissing him soundly. "Oh Severus, that would be wonderful, wouldn't it?"

Severus looked at Albus consideringly.

"Yes, yes it really would Hermione," he said, holding the witch gingerly as she wriggled in his arms. She had climbed into his chair in her enthusiasm, and Albus was grinning, watching the couple. Severus finally managed to plant her back in her own chair.

* * *

Severus was in a black mood for the rest of the weekend. Because of their renewed commitment, Hermione insisted they not engage in sex or even sleep together until their marriage vows had been renewed, which should be Monday.

"It's only two days, Severus and for gods sake…we shagged so much last night I'm surprised you still have any skin left. Surely you can hold out until Monday night," Hermione said, her hands on her hips as she looked at the scowling wizard.

Try as he might, Severus couldn't get the witch to budge on the issue. As a matter of fact, she kicked him out of her rooms, saying that they should spend as much time apart as possible in the next two days, so it would be even better when they came together on their honeymoon night.

Now Severus sat in front of the fireplace in his study sullenly. Yes, they had shagged a lot the night before, but that wasn't the point. He just wanted to sleep with her. They didn't have to do anything.

The little voice in his head said, "_You're lying, Severus_."

"Shut up," the Potions Master muttered as he sipped his pumpkin juice.

Severus began to think about their honeymoon night. How could he make it special? Going to the Ministry was hardly going to be romantic. Then it clicked. Of course.

"Eli? Eli come to me," Severus said, concentrating on the house elf.

There was a small pop, and a smiling, bowing Eli appeared in front of him.

"I is here, Master. How may I serves you?" the elf said excitedly.

"Eli, how would you like to get out of the kitchens for a while?" the Potions Master said, "Actually off of Hogwarts grounds?"

The elf bobbed up and down excitedly.

"Eli has not left Hogwarts in many years, sir. Many, many years. It would be good to leaves, sir," the elf squeaked, dancing about.

"Well, it would involve a lot of hard work. It may be too much for you," the Potions Master said, not realizing he had insulted the elf by implying he could not do all the work assigned to him.

Eli did his best not to glower. It was unseemly to glower at one's Master. But Severus could tell the elf was displeased as he drew up his little form to his full height.

"Eli can complete any work, sir. I is a good house elf," the elf said evenly. "The more work, sir, the better it is."

Severus arched an eyebrow at the little creature.

"All right, Eli," Severus said. "Wait here."

"Yes sir," the elf said, still a bit indignant.

Severus went to his top desk drawer and withdrew a small pensieve. He carried it back over to the armchair, set it on the small table then drew out his wand. Eli walked over to watch his Master as the wizard looked thoughtful for a moment, then began to extract a number of long silver strands from his head, and depositing them into the pensieve.

Severus then stuck his finger into the bowl to look at his own memories. He added a few more strands, then checked the pensieve again. Satisfied, he looked at Eli.

"I need you to reproduce this, Eli, in two days" he said, gesturing to the pensieve. The elf stuck his long, clawed finger into the pensieve, his ears flicking back and forth as he viewed it. He pulled his finger out and looked at Severus excitedly.

"Yes, Eli can do this!" the elf said, "Lots of hard work like Eli likes!"

"All right, Eli. This is the service I need you to do. Do you need me to tell you…" Severus began.

Eli held up a clawed hand to stop the Potions Master.

"Eli knows, sir," he said. "We is bonded. What Master knows, Eli knows. Eli keeps all his Master's secrets. I goes now, sir."

With that, the elf winked out.

Severus sat back in his chair, then looked down at the table. The pensieve still sat there. Didn't the elf need it? Probably not. The creature said whatever Severus knew, he knew. It was a bit unsettling to know the house elf was so connected to him. The Potions Master had a lot of secrets…but a house elf would never reveal them for any reason, even if threatened with torture and death.

Severus looked thoughtful. If Eli could pull this off in two days he was truly amazing. Severus flicked his wand at the pensieve, clearing the contents. He stood up, picked up the bowl and returned it to his desk drawer, then looked at the stack of parchments on his desk. He might as well get to them. It would occupy him for a couple of hours anyway.

* * *

Hermione was curled up in the armchair, reading. The book was entitled, "One Hundred and One Ways to Please Your Wizard," written by a popular sex author who wrote under the pen name of "O. R. Gasm"

She furrowed her brow and twisted the book nearly upside down.

"How the hell is she doing that?" Hermione muttered.

Then, "Ow. That looks like it hurts a bit too much. Severus would probably love to get me twisted like that. Shit."

After a while, Hermione put the book down, deciding she would have to be a contortionist to do the things the book suggested.

She looked down at her ring.

"I'm going to be Hermione Jane Snape…again," she breathed, then let her head drop back against the back of the armchair, closing her eyes, "And this time we aren't walking into marriage blind…"

Suddenly Hermione's amber eyes flicked open. She looked thoughtful for a moment, then smiled a slow, sexy smile.

She knew what she would do for Severus on their wedding night.

* * *

Albus, Severus and Hermione arrived at the Ministry on Monday morning and waited to speak to the Department head in charge of records. After a half-hour wait, they were ushered into the office of one Mildred Mulligan, a stout, red-faced, red-haired rather pleasant looking witch in blue robes.

"Good morning. Welcome to the Department of Magical Records. My name is Mildred Mulligan. Feel free to call me Mildred. And you are?" the witch said in a practiced business-like manner that still managed to seem warm.

"Albus Dumbledore, Professor Severus Snape, and Miss Hermione Granger," the Headmaster replied, gesturing as he introduced her.

"Headmaster," Mildred smiled. "I thought I recognized you. How can I help you?"

"We are interested in getting an annulment," Albus said.

"And the grounds for the annulment?" Mildred asked looking at the witch and wizard, suspecting they were the couple that wanted it.

"Non-fulfillment of the contract terms," the Headmaster said.

Mildred studied the couple.

"I see. You realize when an annulment is performed, every public record of the event is wiped away. That not only means our records here at the Ministry, but those in every newspaper, magazine, tabloid…including private records, such as every printed invitation. This also includes photographs as well as the public's individual memories of the event. It will be as if the ceremony never happened," she said evenly. "And it is irreversible."

"That's fine," Albus said.

Mildred looked at Severus and Hermione, then took out a form and a quill.

"The married couple's names?" she asked.

All three looked at each other, then Hermione said, "We aren't married. We're divorced. We want to annul our divorce."

"Divorced?" Mildred said, looking at the couple in disbelief. "We haven't had a divorce since…well…"

Suddenly she recognized the couple. The Snapes, or former Snapes. It had caused quite a stir in the Ministry.

"…Since you two," she finished, disbelief in her voice. Her blue eyes fell on the wedding rings. She looked back up at them, at the hope in Hermione's eyes, and smiled a bit.

"So you've decided the divorce was a mistake have you?" she asked them.

"Yes," Hermione said, her eyes shining. "The worst mistake I ever made in my life, Mildred. I love my ex-husband very much, and he…he still loves me. We can be remarried, I know, but an annulment of the divorce would be so much better. And we really haven't followed the terms of it, since we are involved and the decree says we are supposed to be apart."

"Hm. Just the opposite of a Marriage annulment for non-consummation. Very interesting. You are working from the premise if a marriage contract can be annulled, so can a divorce contract," Mildred mused.

"Yes. We want the divorce wiped away, so it will be as if our marriage never ended. Can you do that Mildred?" Hermione asked her.

Severus looked at the witch soberly.

Mildred looked at both of them. She wanted to help them. Divorce was such an ugly thing, actually considered quite a blemish in the Department of Records. She thought the board might like nothing better that to wipe it from the records, especially since it occurred because of an oversight in the law books, something they should have been on top of. Hermione's and Severus' divorce had been a great embarrassment to the Ministry.

"I will have to bring it before my superiors. Luckily the board is in session as we speak. I should be able to slip it into their roster," Mildred said smiling. "Now, give me all the pertinent information…"

Severus and Hermione provided the witch with all the information she needed. Mildred rose from her desk, taking the form with her.

"Let me get this on the floor. It might be a little wait. We have coffee and doughnuts in the staff room if you feel the need to stretch your legs, but I will come back with an answer for you," she said, exiting the room and walking briskly towards the boardroom.

Hermione looked at Severus nervously.

"Do you think they will grant the annulment, Severus?" she asked the dark wizard. She looked a bit scared.

Severus took her small hand and squeezed it.

"If they don't Hermione, we will have a wedding," Severus said comfortingly.

"Yes, but an annulment would be so much better, Severus. It would remove the onus from us. It will be as if it never happened. That's what I want," she said softly. "No record of it will remain anywhere."

"Don't worry Hermione. It will work out the way it is supposed to. As long as you end up my wife, I really don't care how it comes about," the Potions Master said sincerely, forgetting Albus was there and kissing her lightly on the mouth.

Severus hoped the annulment would go through. That meant there would be a honeymoon night tonight, and he was anxious to show Hermione what he prepared for her. The Potions Master thought the witch would be very pleased, and a very pleased Hermione was a very passionate, uninhibited Hermione. He could almost feel her soft mouth on his body right now. He throbbed powerfully...his robes bouncing from the force of it. Severus shifted a bit, telling himself to calm down.

Hermione didn't notice the pulse of fabric, but Albus did, and met Severus' eyes knowingly with that annoying twinkle. The Potions Master scowled at him, and it was all the Headmaster to do to keep from chuckling.

Mildred was back sooner than they expected.

The unsmiling witch walked in soberly with the form, and didn't look at or say anything to the couple as she sat down at her desk. She laid the form in front of her, then looked up at Hermione for a moment, then opened her drawer and took out a large rubber stamp.

"I'm sorry," Mildred said, lifting the stamp.

Hermione's face fell as the witch brought the stamp down on the paper.

Suddenly a rush of magic filled the office and a golden glow appeared around Severus and Hermione, settled into them, then disappeared.

"Your annulment has been granted. What was done is now undone, now and forever more," the witch intoned, then gave the couple a broad, apologetic smile.

"I didn't mean to scare you. I am required to say "I'm sorry," whenever I grant an annulment. But, you are hereby married again," Mildred said, her eyes shining, "This is the first occasion I've ever had to say congratulations after an annulment. I hope you are very happy together."

Hermione let out a whoop and threw herself on her husband, kissing Severus passionately as both Mildred and Albus looked on, smiling.

All around the wizarding world, clipped articles, photos and documents about the couple's divorce flashed and disappeared. No one even noticed because another part of annulment magic was to wipe the memories of all but those most intimately involved with the divorce. For all intents and purposes to the wizarding community, the divorce never happened.

Mildred watched the happy couple and the Headmaster leave, wiping a tear from her eye. She had performed many annulments in the name of incompatibility or even downright hatred, but this was the first time she had ever performed one in the name of true love.

* * *

Albus congratulated the couple once more, winked at Severus and apparated.

Hermione looked up at her husband.

"I thought we were apparating back to Hogwarts with the Headmaster," she said, looking up at Severus perplexed.

"We are not returning to Hogwarts until the end of the week, wife," Severus replied, smirking at her confusion.

"Where are we going then?" she asked as Severus pulled her in tight against him.

He kissed her forehead.

"Home," he said, then disapparated with the witch.

* * *

Eli heard the thunder crack of apparition and ran to the living room window, standing on his tiptoes to see out. He saw the Master and Mistress standing outside. He smiled.

The house had been a wreck when he arrived. The yard was full of weeds, the grass overgrown, the paint faded, and shingles falling off. Inside was even worse. Old dishes piled in the sinks, books strewn everywhere. A feeling of despair permeated the entire space.

With a wave of his clawed hand, Eli raised every shade in the house, letting in light for the first time in months. He looked around.

"This is no good. Much sadness here. Much pain. Is in the walls and floors. In everything. It must be cleansed," he said to himself.

Using old elf magic, Eli summoned a Great One, a shimmering earth spirit who appeared shrouded in golden light, floating a few feet above the floor, its golden hair flowing as if in water. It spun in place, sadness in its eyes as it felt the despair within the walls. It looked at Eli with beautiful, liquid eyes…then smiled. Its golden light increased, drawing out all the sadness, ache and pain in the walls, which looked like thick, dirty cobwebs being drawn to its center.

The being floated through every room in the house, pulling pain from the walls until every bit of sadness and loss was cleansed. It spent several minutes in the separate bedrooms Severus and Hermione had occupied. The despair in those rooms was particularly strong. Finally it returned to the living room, looking exhausted but happy.

Eli bowed low to the being, and it nodded to the house elf, then faded away.

Then with good old house elf magic and a bit of elbow grease, Eli began to clean, drawing on Severus' memories of how the house looked when they first moved in, and recreating it. He cleaned, scrubbed and painted until the house was pristine and bright again. He managed to get it in order in one day. He spent the night, then the next morning went to work on the yard, winking back to Hogwarts to bring flowers and plants from Professor Sprout's greenhouse. He cut back the grass, weeded the flowerbeds and planted fresh charmed flowers, watering them well. He then fixed the loose shingles on the house and repainted it, the porch and the white picket fence.

Then he winked back to Hogwarts and brought both his Master's and Mistress's clothing, hanging them in the closest of their bedroom side by side. Then plumped the huge king-sized mattress and covered it with bed sheets of Slytherin green and silver.

The elf then returned to Hogwarts, the kitchens this time and raided the stores, bringing food and drinks to stock the cooler. The house elf then added a few extra special touches that the Potions Master hadn't said to do, but hadn't said not to do. This was elf logic at its best.

Now the house elf watched the reaction of the Mistress as she stood outside, staring at the house.

Eli looked quite confused as she grabbed the Master and burst into tears.

The house elf shook his scaly head as Severus rubbed the sobbing witch's back, rocking and talking to her. Oddly enough, the dark wizard was smiling.

Humans certainly were strange.

* * *

Albus was in his office chatting with Ginny Weasley, who recently began working part-time in the Hogwarts library. Madame Pince was grooming Ginny to be the next librarian, as she was ready to retire.

Ginny worked at the Ministry in the Department of Muggle Artifacts with her father, her primary duties being cataloguing items. Working in the same building with her father and brother Ron was nerve-wracking and she was ready for something new, so when she saw the help wanted ad in the Prophet she applied for the job.

Ginny had grown up to be quite a lovely young woman, with flaming red hair, expressive brown eyes and a smattering of freckles across her nose that was quite appealing. She was rather tall, about five foot ten, and well built. She had taken after her father in stature.

Albus was asking her to take on an extra duty as Hogwarts Ambassador of Good Will.

"Your duties would be to accompany important wizards to dinner, dancing and other outings we arrange for their pleasure," Albus said.

"Are these wealthy wizards?" Ginny asked.

Albus nodded.

"Most are quite wealthy. They give contributions to Hogwarts a few times a year," Albus said.

Ginny rolled her eyes.

Albus frowned at her slightly.

"Miss Weasley, why did you roll your eyes like that?" he asked her.

Ginny sighed.

"Because most wealthy men are pompous idiots, that's why. All they do is talk about money, waste money and expect you to hop into their beds because they have money," she said with a little grimace. "And believe me, Headmaster, they lose their beautiful manners very quickly when they get a witch alone."

"Sounds like you haven't gone out with the right wealthy wizards," a voice said.

Both Ginny and Albus turned to the door to see Lord Percival Hornswallow standing there, grinning at Ginny's comments. He had an appointment to see Albus and arrived a bit early. He wasn't being rude however, the door had been open and he couldn't help hearing her comments.

"Ah Percival, come in, come in," Albus said. "Meet Miss Ginerva Weasley. Miss Weasley meet Lord Percival Hornswallow the 2nd."

"Ginny will be fine," Ginny said looking the wizard over.

Another rich wizard.

Percival entered the office, and walked over to Ginny, who was sitting in a chair in front of Albus' desk.

"Miss Weasley," he said, bowing and taking the witch's hand to give it a kiss. Ginny quickly turned it into a handshake.

Percival was rather startled at this. Most witches didn't mind him kissing their hands. They expected it. He straightened and gave her a little frown. Ginny met his gaze directly.

"Lord Hornswallow," she said, smirking a bit.

She knew she had thrown him for a loop when she didn't let him kiss her hand.

Ginny Weasley was a pureblood from a poor family. She had six brothers and was the only girl. When she came of age she began to date. Although she was poor, she was a pureblood and attractive, so she came to the attention of some of the other pureblood families as a possible wife for their spoiled sons. Ginny quickly came to dislike "high-society" and refused to be peddled off to the wizard with the biggest purse. Coming from her background, Ginny was very thrifty and budget minded and wasn't impressed at all when wizards spent huge amounts of money on trivial things. She thought it both wasteful and stupid. One way to turn the witch off was to show off. And most rich wizards showed off.

They also thought themselves naturally better than other people who didn't have money and expected to be treated as demi-gods. Ginny refused to do this. She believed in equality of the classes. A wizard not rich in galleons could be rich in kindness or goodness. That was something better than money. Most rich wizards were playwizards as well, sleeping with every woman they went out with. They actually expected it. If they bought you dinner, they expected to wake up with you the next morning. Ginny wasn't having that. In her younger years, she was a bit wild, but she matured now and was extremely particular about whom she became involved with. There had to be something between them. Something she could feel.

Right now, the witch was giving herself some space from wizards, trying to focus on what she wanted to do with her life. Working at Hogwarts full-time seemed a good option. It would be a secure job with benefits and provide free lodging and meals. She could save her money and invest it. Probably in Fred and George's joke shop. They were making quite a bit of money.

Percival eyed Ginny Weasley speculatively. He wondered if she were a natural redhead. Then he turned to Albus.

"Albus, I'm a bit early, but I was hoping to see Miss Granger," he said smiling at the Headmaster.

Albus' eyes darkened a bit.

"Ah, Miss Granger? Hm. Percival I'm afraid I need to talk to you, privately," he said.

Ginny believed that was her cue to go and began to rise out of her chair. Albus motioned at her to stay put.

"We can talk right outside the office, Miss Weasley, please wait here," he said.

Ginny sat back down as Albus walked from around the desk, put his arm around Percival's shoulder and guided him out the office, closing the door behind them.

Percival went on point immediately. Anytime Albus put his arm around him, some unpleasantness is afoot.

Albus removed his arm and Percival turned to face the old wizard, his green eyes sharp.

"All right, Albus…what is it?" he asked.

"I'm afraid Miss Granger is now Mrs. Snape, Percival. She will no longer be our Ambassador since she is married," the Headmaster said.

Percival's eyebrows went up.

"Married? How could she be married? She said she was involved with a man who wasn't interested in marrying her three days ago. This is insane!" the wizard said angrily. "Albus, were you pulling the wool over my eyes about this witch?"

Percival was very angry. This just couldn't be. Miss Granger married? Damn.

"Percival, let me give you the short version of Mrs. Snape's previous situation," Albus said. Then he launched into Hermione and Severus' history, their earlier relationship, marriage, loss of their child, divorce, reconnection and the annulment of their divorce.

When Albus was finished, Percival was quiet for a moment.

"So, she really was in love," he said softly.

"Yes, she loves her husband very much. But if it is any consolation, Percival, it was you who finally brought them together. I know that might not seem wonderful to you, in that you seem to have had an interest in Miss Gran…Mrs. Snape, but believe me, you inadvertently did something that was truly, truly good," Albus said. "You made the wizard see what a treasure he had."

Percival let out a sigh. Well, that was that. Miss Granger, or Mrs. Snape was now beyond his reach. She had been a lovely witch. He hoped she would be happy.

Albus opened the door to his office.

"Come back in Percival. I need a bit of help convincing Miss Weasley to become my new Ambassador of Good Will," Albus said.

Percival leaned in the door and looked at the back of the redhead's head.

"Her Albus? She wouldn't even let me kiss her hand. You know that's the standard greeting among the rich," he whispered to the old wizard.

"That's why I want you to help me," Albus said. "Otherwise I will have to use Sybil Trelawney. She's the only single witch I have willing to serve. And she's far from the flush of youth."

"Sybil Trelawney?" Percival asked.

Albus pointed to the wall behind his desk, where hung photos of his current staff.

"There she is, second row, third to the left," the Headmaster said.

Percival looked at a photo of a witch with enormous eyes, wrapped in scarves and making what he imagined were supposed to be flirtatious faces at the camera. It looked like she was having some kind of seizure.

"Let's go talk to Miss Weasley," Percival said, striding into the office.

Albus smirked and followed him.

Percival walked over to Ginny and gestured to the chair next to her.

"Do you mind if I sit down Miss Weasley?" he asked.

"Go right ahead my Lord. It's not my chair after all," she replied a bit stiffly.

Percival sat down and studied the witch. She certainly was obnoxious…yet interesting. Simply because no one was ever obnoxious to him before. He was known as a charmer.

"Thank you, Miss Weasley," he said sarcastically. Ginny's brown eyes raked over him coolly, then turned back toward the Headmaster.

Headmaster, I really don't think I'm a good choice for Ambassador of Good Will. I just don't do rich wizards well, sir," she said honestly. "If they were ordinary down-to-earth wizards then I could do it. But…but I just can't take them."

She looked at Percival.

"No offense, my Lord," she said, the tone of her voice saying just the opposite.

Percival's brow furrowed.

"I like to believe I'm rather down-to-earth Miss Weasley," he said.

"Yes, I imagine you do, especially while soaring through the sky with the world's only team of black Pegasii," she replied.

Ouch. This was the first time he ever felt embarrassed to own something valuable.

"I paid good money for those animals," he said evenly, feeling he needed to defend himself against the witch. "And they are well treated. Very well treated."

"Have you never heard of a broom, my Lord? It is a form of transportation the 'little wizards' use," she replied. "But I bet it's been years, if ever, you've sat on one of those."

"I can't take my associates about on brooms, Miss Weasley. They are distinguished people," Percival said, getting a bit heated now.

"Yes, but you use your carriage when it's just you alone," she said accusingly. "Why do you do that? I'll tell you why…to announce you have more money than the gods, that's why!"

Percival just stared at the witch, his jaw tight.

"Miss Weasley!" Albus said, surprised, "Lord Hornswallow is a very generous patron of this school. He donates much money to help keep it running smooth, much of which is used to help the poorer students."

Here Albus arched an eyebrow at her. Percival's money had helped her family remain in the school on more than one occasion.

"I don't doubt that Headmaster. But I seriously doubt any of these patrons would be so generous if there weren't write-offs for their donations," she replied.

Albus was about to chastise the witch when Percival held up his hand.

"Miss Weasley," he said quietly, "what you say about the donations are true. There are benefits that come from contributing to institutions. But I pick and choose what institutions to contribute to and try to give to the ones that do the most good. Hogwarts has turned out fine witches and wizards for centuries. Some of the very finest have come from families that didn't have the money to send their children to be properly taught. I contribute to Hogwarts so that those children will have a chance to do well in life. Have a chance to be all they can be. I assure you, Miss Weasley that my contributions are not motivated by tax breaks. I believe everyone should have an equal chance to succeed, and my position in society allows me to act on that belief.

"I am not about to apologize to you or anyone else for being wealthy. My forefathers were chest deep in mud and dirt and stone earning the money that I have now. I am a wealthy pureblood, Miss Weasley, but my money came from a working class of people. They worked hard, saved, and invested to leave a legacy to their descendents, and I am a steward of that wealth. It is a legacy I will one day pass down to my children, along with the legacy of being supportive and generous to those less fortunate. I know where my roots lie, Miss Weasley, and they are just as connected to the earth as yours are."

"As a matter of fact, I think you are being incredibly selfish and miserly. The Headmaster is simply asking you to help the school, to be polite, if that is at all possible, to those who help keep it running. But no, it is about how YOU feel about the rich. Never mind that you can do a service for the students here, or the school as a whole. Oh no, that is too much to ask that you go out to a nice restaurant to eat, hold a conversation or enjoy a dance or two in the company of someone who has more money than you do and can afford some of the finer things. Without any strings attached. Way too much to ask of the self-righteous, holier-than-thou, poor-and-proud-of-it Miss Ginerva Weasley," Percival said with a scowl.

Ginny stared at Percival as if he had slapped her in the face. In a manner of speaking he had. Percival stood up.

"Albus, I sincerely think you should get in contact with Miss Trelawney. Miss Weasley is too stuck on herself to serve as an Ambassador to anything but her own closed mind. She will run off patrons, I assure you, particularly if they discover she is one of the witches Hogwarts produced," he said walking toward the door.

"Albus, I will make another appointment to see you," he said, "Have a good day."

He eyed Ginny then gave her a courtly bow.

"Good day to you, Miss Weasley," he said, his green eyes glittering. "I wish I could say it's been a pleasure, but it hasn't"

He exited.

Ginny stared at the door for a minute then turned back to Albus.

"I came across as a real bitch, didn't I, Headmaster?" she said quietly.

"As I understand it, all redheads are a bit volatile, Miss Weasley," Albus replied diplomatically, "but I agree you did not make the best impression on Lord Hornswallow. You made him quite angry. And he is usually a very easy-going fellow. Contrary to what you believe about the rich, Miss Granger, I assure you Percival is a very down-to-earth wizard. Fortune has just put him in a lifestyle that he has to live with. Just because a wizard is rich, Miss Weasley, it doesn't mean he has the world as his feet. He doesn't. He puts on his boots one at a time like the rest of us."

Albus looked at her soberly.

"But maybe he is right, Miss Weasley. Maybe you aren't the best choice to be an Ambassador of Hogwarts. It takes a certain kind of person to give of herself in such a manner," he said quietly.

This disturbed Ginny. She hadn't realized she was being selfish until Percival pointed it out, rather sharply. It wasn't about her, it was about the school.

"I think I can do it, Headmaster," she said, "I just wasn't thinking right."

Albus cocked his head at her.

"Well, Miss Weasley," he said evenly, a slight twinkle in his eye. "In your case I believe we need a test run. Lord Hornswallow is at this moment leaving Hogwarts. If you can convince him to accompany you to lunch, have lunch with him and smooth this all over, then I believe you can handle being an Ambassador.'

Albus pulled out a purse and began counting out a few galleons. Ginny stood up.

"No, Headmaster," she said, "I'll treat him to lunch," she said turning toward the door. "After how horrible I was to him, it's the least I can do."

"Good luck, Miss Weasley," Albus said, then, "I think it would be better if you took the floo to the main hall, Miss Weasley. You'll have a better chance at catching him."

Ginny hesitated then walked over to the floo and tossed in some floo powder from the mantle.

"Main hall," she said as the flame turned green. She stepped through.

* * *

When Ginny exited into the main hall, she looked around. She didn't see Percival any place. She ran to the main doors and opened them. She saw the wizard striding across the grounds. He had a broom in his hand.

"Shit," Ginny said, before hurrying down the steps after him.

So he did ride a broom. Gods, had she made a big mistake. But she had never seen a rich wizard use a broom for transportation. They rode them for entertainment, or to play Quidditch, but usually had other methods to get around, methods that normal wizards couldn't afford. Some even had muggle cars.

"Lord Hornswallow!" she called, running across the grounds after him.

Percival stopped and looked back. He saw it was Ginny, frowned and started walking faster.

"Damn it," Ginny said. After a few minutes she finally caught up to him, breathing heavily.

"Not finished insulting me yet, Miss Weasley?" Percival asked her, not breaking his stride.

"I want…I want…I want to apologize, my Lord," Ginny puffed, trying to keep up with him. "Could you please slow down so I can do it properly?"

Percival looked at her sideways for a moment, then slowed.

"Give it your best shot," he said through his teeth.

"My Lord, every encounter that I've had with rich wizards has consisted of them showing off their wealth by wasting it and trying to get in my knickers. They've been shallow, extravagant and most of the time, pigs. So I have formed a bias against all rich wizards based on my bad experiences with a few, and hadn't realized that I did until you blasted me. I am normally very fair-minded, Lord Hornswallow, and judge people by their character and not their position. I am so sorry I allowed my prejudice to cause me to treat you badly. I made a mistake and I apologize for it, my Lord. I really am very, very sorry," Ginny said, her brown eyes sincere.

Percival stopped and looked at the witch. He had a feeling Albus had something to do with her being out here. But he believed her apology to be sincere.

"Fine, Miss Weasley. I will pretend your rudeness never happened. Now good day to you," he said picking up his stride again.

"Lord Hornswallow, will you allow me to buy you lunch to make up for my horrible treatment of you?" she asked him.

Percival turned and looked at the witch. Buy him lunch? No witch had ever bought him lunch before. He always paid for everything.

"Um, it wouldn't be anything fancy. Probably some hot dogs or something," she said.

"Hot dogs?" Percival asked her. "What are hot dogs?"

"Well, they're an American food. Something like sausages, but you eat them on a bun with relish, sauerkraut, mustard and sometimes ketchup. They are very good. There's a bloke in muggle London who sells them off a cart," she said."As far as I know, he's the only hot dog vendor in England. He says he comes from a place called "New Yawk. He had a time getting a license to sell them."

"Off a cart?" Percival asked, interested. He had never eaten anything off a cart. Carts were wagons you carried things in.

"Yes, a cart," Ginny said.

Percival looked at the witch again, consideringly. She was a rather nice looking young woman, if a bit outspoken and hot-tempered. But that was rather refreshing. He didn't believe she'd try digging around in his pockets, and she certainly wouldn't try to go to bed with him. She didn't believe in wasting money either. Hm.

"Miss Weasley, are you currently involved with anyone?" he asked her suddenly.

"No. Why?" she asked, her eyes narrowed.

"I didn't want any jealous boyfriends swooping down on me while we were at lunch," he said, giving her a smile.

Ginny noticed he had a dimple. She smiled back at him.

"You don't have to worry about that. I've sworn off wizards for a while," she said as they started walking toward the main gate.

Percival arched a calculating eyebrow at her.

"Have you really?" he asked, a small smirk on his face as he unwarded the gate and let them out, letting Ginny exit first, then following behind her, warding the gate back

The wizard pulled out his wand, reduced his broom to pocket-sized and put it in his robes pocket. He extended his hand to the witch. Ginny stared down at it.

Percival sighed and said, "Miss Weasley, if you are afraid I am going to try to kiss your hand again, don't be. One rebuke is enough for me. But if we are going to apparate to muggle London, you are going to have to take me since I have no idea where I am going."

Ginny clapped a hand to her head.

"I'm so sorry, my Lord. I wasn't thinking. I've got to let my guard down a bit. It might take a little time. Like I said, I've had a few bad experiences," she said.

Percival grinned when the witch openly admitted her mistake instead of trying to cover it up with some ruse. He appreciated honesty. It was in short supply.

"It's quite all right, Miss Weasley. Perhaps I can help you change your perceptions," he said smiling at her as she slipped her hand into his.

Ginny had a firm hand, a working hand, not too soft, but soft enough to be feminine. Percival gripped it a bit firmer, as Ginny looked up at him, consideringly. He was quite a handsome wizard. Rather pleasant too. Not at all stuffy.

"Perhaps you can, my Lord," she said with a small smile.

She pulled out her wand and placed a silencing spell over them so they wouldn't startle any muggles with the apparition crack. They would appear in a small alley, and walk to the vendor from there.

"Are you ready?" Ginny asked him.

Percival looked down at her, his green eyes sparkling a little.

"For anything," he replied, squeezing her hand.

They disapparated. 

* * *

Severus gently drew Hermione out of his embrace and turned her so she could see their home. It was the way it used to be when they first married, down to the last flowering plant. Severus leaned down and pressed his lips against her ear.

"A new beginning, wife," he said silkily.

Hermione blinked back her tears.

"How did you do this, Severus?" she asked. "In only two days, how did you do it?"

"Let's just say I found someone who provides excellent service," he replied, "And we will spend our wedding night in our own marriage bed, Hermione. It's been empty far too long."

Severus took the witch's hand and the couple entered the yard. They walked around the entire house. It truly was restored to its former happy state. Hermione felt warm inside as she leaned against Severus, who had his arm resting on her shoulder as they walked. Severus felt he could breathe now. During the hard times, he always felt constricted here, as if every time he entered the yard a weight would fall on his chest. The weight was despair and grief. But now…there was joy again. Hope. Love.

Hermione felt the freedom too as they circled the house. It was all good again. Yes, Jacob was gone but not truly gone. She held her son close in her heart, and knew wherever he was, he was happy. Tears welled up in her eyes as she thought this.

"Are you crying again?" Severus asked her.

"Yes," Hermione sniffled, "But from happiness, Severus. I feel truly happy for the first time in a long time."

Severus squeezed the witch lightly but didn't reply. He knew how she felt. He felt as if he had gotten his life back. Hermione had been his second chance at a new life, back when he served the Dark Lord and she came to him despite his coldness and darkness, bringing him warmth and light. Now she was his third and last chance. He wasn't taking any others. She was his forever, and he was hers.

"Come Hermione, let's go inside," he said to her.

They walked around to the front of the house.

Eli quickly winked out as Severus unlocked the door with his wand and the couple entered. Hermione gasped as she looked at the bright, airy home, completely restored. The house actually felt happy and warm, as if…almost as if it were smiling and welcoming them back.

"Oh Severus!" Hermione exclaimed walking quickly through the house. She stopped by a vase of flowers resting on the end table.

"I broke that vase," she said, her brow furrowed.

Severus walked up to her and looked down at the ceramic container.

"Yes you did," the Potions Master commented, "throwing it at me in a fit of rage, I believe. Luckily you missed by a kilometer. It would have been quite painful if it hit me."

Hermione continued to stare at the vase.

Severus turned her.

"I gave a pensieve of my memories how the house used to be, Hermione, so it could be completely restored. So you are going to see quite a few things back where they belong. Just like we are," he said gently.

Hermione sniffed.

"I smell roses!" she exclaimed, walking down the hallway, following her nose. She turned into the Master bedroom.

Severus sniffed then scowled. He hated roses.

"Oh Severus!" Hermione exclaimed from the bedroom. The Potions Master hurried to her.

"What?" he asked.

Hermione stood in the door of the bathroom and turned to him.

"Like you don't know," she smiled at him, rather sexily.

Severus didn't know, but he wasn't about to ignore that smile his wife gave him. He walked to the bathroom door and looked in. Dear gods.

In the bathroom was a large marble sunken tub large enough for four people, full of steaming water, rose petals floating on the surface. Bouquets of red roses and lit candles abounded. Two terry cloth robes and large fluffy towels lay on the bathroom counter. Two bottles of wine immersed in a bucket of never-melting ice rested in an ornate bucket on the side of the tub, along with two crystal wineglasses.

"Oh Severus, this is so romantic," Hermione said, running up to the wizard and pulling him down into a very passionate kiss, molding her body against his as her tongue practically raped his mouth. They staggered back together into the middle of the bedroom.

Severus quickly wrapped his arms around his wife and threw himself into the kiss, feeling himself hardening. Yes, gods, she was very pleased.

"Thank you, Eli" Severus thought as he kissed his wife, who was rubbing her body up against him deliciously.

Hermione let him go and started unbuttoning her robes quickly.

"What…what are you doing?" Severus asked her, his arms still partially open.

"Getting undressed. Come on," she said walking into the bathroom.

Her robes came flying out the door, then her shirt, then her skirt, then her bra, then her knickers in quick succession, followed by a little splash and a sigh of pleasure.

Severus looked down at his wife's expelled clothing for a moment, then started stripping quickly. Fuck the roses. He was getting in that tub.

"Severussss," Hermione called to him sexily. "I'm waiting."

"I'm coming," he said pulling his robes over his head in his haste. He had never taken Hermione in a sunken tub before. He heard a bottle pop.

"Oh, this is delicious. Much better than the wine I had with Lord Hornswallow," Hermione called out to her husband as he stripped off his shirt.

"Wow, this is going right to my head, I think," Hermione giggled.

"Shit," Severus said as he fumbled with his trousers. Why was he having so much trouble with them? He was going too fast. He slowed and took a deep breath. He worked at his trousers again. They opened. He slid them down and realized he hadn't taken off his boots. Some splashing came from the bathroom.

"Come on, Severus. I'm feeling frisky," Hermione called to him.

Severus shuffled over to the bed, sat down and pulled off his boots and socks, then his pants. He stood up and pulled off his boxers. He was rock hard.

He quickly strode into the bathroom to see his wife leaning back against the edge of the tub, her hair wet, and droplets of water dripping down her skin. Her breasts seemed as if they were trying to float to the top of the tub. She was finishing her glass of wine.

She lowered the glass and her eyes raked over Severus' lean muscular body, resting on his swollen organ.

"You look very happy to see me, husband," she purred.

"I am," he growled, stepping over the candles and getting into the tub. It was huge.

"When did you have this tub put in, Severus? It's marvelous," Hermione purred as he slid his long frame into the water sitting opposite her.

"Recently," he said shortly, his eyes drinking the witch in. "Come here."

Hermione smiled and moved from the other side of the tub, turning around and sliding between Severus' outstretched legs, resting her back against his chest. His cock rested against her back. Hermione sighed as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer.

"This is nice, Severus," she said as they soaked in the water.

Severus eyed a floating rose petal that was drifting nearer to them, before what Hermione said registered.

"Yes, yes it is, Hermione. I have a feeling it's about to get much nicer," he purred, lowering his lips to her throat and raising his hands to her breasts, fondling the witch as he licked and sucked her neck. He tweaked her nipples.

"Oh yessss," Hermione moaned as Severus' hands slipped over and under her breasts, caressing them. Suddenly she turned around laying her body against his, kissing him hungrily, her tongue tangling with his. Severus wrapped his arms around her body loosely as she slid against him, her breasts mashed against his chest. Gods, he loved this, the water lapping around his body while Hermione's hot little tongue lapped around his mouth.

Suddenly the witch stopped kissing him, looking at him with hot amber eyes. She pushed back from him a bit.

"Hermione, what are you…Hermione!" he cried as the witch suddenly disappeared under the water.

The next sound Severus made was a long hiss as he felt the witch's mouth slide over him. Gods, she was blowing him underwater.

Severus rested both arms on the sides of the tub, leaning his head back, his eyes closed in pleasure as he felt Hermione's mouth and hands work over his swollen organ. It felt…like pure heaven.

Suddenly Hermione rose from the water and looked at him for a moment, grinning, water streaming down her face as she took a breath and disappeared again.

"Damn!" Severus hissed as her mouth slid over him again, sucking hard and bobbing fast. The Potions Master bucked forward suddenly, and bubbles rose to the surface, and Hermione reappeared gasping.

"You gagged me!" she exclaimed.

"I'm sorry," Severus said hoarsely, praying she'd submerge again. She smirked at him, took another breath and dove back under the water.

It must have been a damn good breath, because Hermione worked on the Potions Master for almost a full minute, the wizard groaning and hissing with pleasure, spasmodically clutching at the sides of the tub, his head flung back, trying his best not to buck up into her hot, sucking mouth. He was almost there when she reappeared.

"Go back," Severus groaned, "Gods Hermione…go back."

The witch smiled and took another breath. She submerged one more time and attacked her husband's huge tool with a vengeance, all lips, mouth, teeth, tongue and hands, determined to get the wizard off.

"Merlin…Circe…Athena…"

Severus was calling on all the gods as his wife took him to the edge, then over it…a low hoarse cry torn from his throat as he came, his body shuddering, the wizard hanging on the tub for fear that he would hold Hermione down and drown her if his hands went to her head.

Hermione felt Severus explode in her mouth and drank him down as best she could, her hair swirling about her face. His legs were jumping as he kept himself from arching upward. Hermione stayed with him a few seconds more, her lungs feeling like they would burst, before she released him and flew out from under the water with a great splash, gasping for air, her eyes on her husband as she panted.

Severus' eyes were completely rolled up into his head and fluttering as he continued to come, biting his lip and grunting. Every vein in his neck and arms stood out in relief against his pale skin, his muscles tensed. Hermione thought watching him come like this was one of the sexiest sights she had ever seen. Hermione rubbed the wizard's chest gently until he finished, his head snapping forward his black eyes reappearing, looking straight at the witch as his chest rose and fell.

"That was amazing," he gasped, "Gods, Hermione, you have an amazing lung capacity."

She smirked at him.

"I bet I'll get better with practice," she replied, leaning forward and kissing him.

He could taste himself on her lips. Then Hermione turned again and rested back against his chest, reaching for the glass and the bottle of wine. She poured a glass for Severus first, handing it to him. The wizard drank thirstily, then sighed, resting the glass on the edge of the tub as Hermione poured another glass for herself.

They soaked and sipped wine in silence for a few moments. Their happiness was palpable.

"This water isn't cooling," Hermione said suddenly, "Is it charmed?"

"Yes," Severus replied, feeling relaxed and comfortable as the warm water lapped around them.

Hermione noticed a button on the side of the tub.

"What's this?" she asked, pressing it.

Suddenly the water began to churn strongly around them. Severus was startled and sat up, ready to pull Hermione from the tub. She laughed.

"It's a Jacuzzi, Severus. Didn't you know?" she asked him laughing.

The wizard settled back as the water bubbled and flowed around them. Actually, it felt very good.

"Of course I knew," he lied, "You simply startled me when you…you started it up."

"Well, just lay back and enjoy it," she said, pouring herself another glass of wine. It certainly was good. She was getting a buzz.

"Are you planning on having sex with me in here?" Hermione asked Severus boldly. Yes, the wine was very, very good.

The Potions Master placed his mouth against her ear, rubbed her belly, then let his hand drift lower.

"I most certainly am, Mrs. Snape," he said silkily, his long fingers slipping between her folds. "As soon as I recover from your very successful underwater expedition."

Hermione gasped and arched, spilling part of her wine into the water

"Whoops," Severus said, putting his own glass down and taking Hermione's out of her hand and setting it on the side of the tub as he continued to massage her, the witch writhing and sliding against him in the bubbling water. He brought his other hand to her breast, and pressed his lips against her throat as she cried out in pleasure.

"This is going to be one hell of a honeymoon night," he thought as Hermione let out a perfectly beautiful shriek as she came.

* * *

Severus and Hermione made very passionate love in the Jacuzzi, the witch straddling the Potions Master in the center of the tub, the water bubbling around them. Severus thought this would be the safest position, he didn't want to risk forcing the witch underwater if he became too "kind" to her. He showed her only moderate kindness however; having enjoyed the tender lovemaking they did on the night they recommitted themselves to each other. He liked to be able to satisfy her without being a total animal…though he did enjoy being one.

It did get quite exciting however when Severus became lost to his passion, lifted the witch high and slammed her down on his member and hit a sweet spot, Hermione crying out, swinging her arm and hitting the button again so the water churned even more violently. It was like making love in the midst of a storm. And Merlin, what a perfect storm it was as the couple climaxed together, holding on to each other for dear life as they flowed together in ecstasy, the Jacuzzi boiling around them.

The couple sat in the middle of the tub, coming down, quaking and panting against each other. Hermione reached over and hit the button again and the water became calm. Severus realized he had rose petals stuck all over him and grimaced. But Hermione liked roses so he suffered in silence as the witch kissed him gently on the mouth over and over.

"That was wonderful, Severus," she said hugging him tightly, her face pressed into his throat.

"Mmmm," he agreed as he held her.

Hermione's belly let out a little rumble.

"I'm famished, Severus," she said softly.

He was hungry himself.

"All right love, let's see if there's anything to eat. If not, I will take you out," he said, sliding her back off him, rising, helping her up and brushing all the blasted rose petals from her body and his own. Then he helped her out the tub, and followed.

They each grabbed a fluffy towel and dried each other off, paying extra attention to the sensitive parts, Hermione squealing as Severus held her and drew the towel between her legs. The Potions Master soon found himself gasping as Hermione gripped his organ rather tightly with the towel, threatening to give him a burn.

"Then the honeymoon would be over," he warned her.

She released him immediately.

They both donned and tied the fluffy terry cloth robes. Hermione looked down and saw two pairs of terrycloth slippers in their sizes.

"I don't remember seeing these," Hermione said, frowning slightly.

"You must have overlooked them," Severus said, his black eyes darting about as they slipped on the slippers and exited the bathroom. Eli must still be here. He hoped the elf would stay out of sight.

Severus slipped an arm over Hermione's shoulders as they padded down the hall and toward the kitchen. Hermione froze. Severus stifled a small groan.

Oh Eli.

In the dining room was a blue linen covered table, elegantly set for an intimate dinner for two, with candles burning softly and the shades drawn to make the setting even more intimate. Centered on the table on an extremely large platter was a huge lobster with a cracked tail. It looked like it weighed at least fifteen pounds. Boiled corn, small potatoes, and lots of butter in two bowls surrounded it. A large bowl of salad sat next to it, containing lettuce, onions, carrots, tomatoes and radishes. Several small bottles of dressings rested in a neat row behind it. A pitcher of pumpkin juice and two magically chilled carafes of wine finished the meal.

Hermione turned her eyes toward Severus for a moment, then moved toward the table. She held her hand over the lobster and the corn.

"They're piping hot," she said softly. Then she quickly walked into the kitchen. It was spotless.

"Hello? Is anybody in here?" Hermione called out. No one answered. She padded back into the living room

She looked at Severus, who tried to look as innocent as he could.

"Dinner looks good," he said rather lamely.

Hermione's eyes narrowed and she put her hands on her hips.

"All right Severus…spill it. This food is freshly made, piping hot and the kitchen is spotless. Both of us were in the tub. How did you do this?" she asked him. "I didn't smell any food cooking and the doors are locked and warded. Now what's going on here?"

Her husband's eyes shifted slightly. Severus was a good liar when he had to be, but Hermione had caught him at a loss. She wouldn't believe he spelled it here from someplace else. He had been nowhere near his wand. It couldn't have just been delivered because she was right, he had locked and warded the doors. It couldn't have been apparated there, simply because no one could possibly know when they would leave the tub.

Severus sighed. It was time to confess. He hoped she wouldn't shut down the honeymoon night in protest. He walked up to the witch and caught her gently by the elbow guiding her to the table and pulling out the chair for her.

"Hermione, please sit down and I will explain it to you," he said.

Hermione sat and watched as Severus drew the chair from the other side of the table, and sat down at the side perpendicular from her own seat, moving the salad bowl and dressings to make room.

"All right, explain Severus," she said.

Severus looked at her for a moment.

"Eli, come in here," he said.

"Eli? Who's Eli," Hermione asked.

Suddenly Eli winked in and bowed to Severus, then Hermione.

"Eli is here, Master. What service does you need, sir?" the elf asked, smiling delightedly.

Hermione's face clouded over.

"Master?" she said in an icy voice. "When did you enslave a house elf, Severus?"

Enslave? Shit.

Eli's ears flattened.

"Eli is not enslaved, Mistress. Eli is bonded to the Snape. The Snape is my Master. I keeps all his secrets now, Mistress," the elf said rather sullenly.

"Severus, why did you do this? You know how I feel about house elf enslavement!" she said to the wizard, her eyes narrowed.

Damn.

Severus opened his mouth to speak but Eli beat him to it.

"It is not the Master's fault, Mistress. He did not know the elves at Hogwarts is free, Mistress," the elf said.

Hermione's eyes widened.

"Free? No Eli, the house elves at Hogwarts are servants of the school. They are enslaved," she said to the elf.

Eli shook his head.

"No Mistress, they is all free. They has no Masters. The Great Dumbledore takes in unbound house elves and gives them work to do until they find Masters, Mistress. We most appreciates it we do. A house elf without work is very, very sad, Mistress," he said, "When we finds one we likes who likes us, we bonds with them and is free to leave the school."

Hermione stared at the little creature.

"The elves are all free?" she asked in a small voice.

Eli nodded sadly. "Free as birds we is," he agreed.

Then he looked at Severus with what appeared to be affection.

"My Master did not know, Miss. When he asks me alone to serve him, I decides I likes him and bonds with him. He did not know and was very concerned, Mistress. He says you won't likes it. But what's done is done. I will serve him always, Mistress. I has a true Master now," the elf said, bowing to Severus again and smiling, showing small pointed teeth.

"You are all free?" Hermione said again, her eyes wide with disbelief.

"Yes, Mistress," Eli says.

"You mean to tell me you voluntarily enslaved yourselves to Masters, when you could be free to do whatever you want? Have homes of your own? Earn wages? Live as you please?" Hermione said to Eli.

"It is not enslavement when a Master is chosen, Mistress. House elves are born to serve, and are unhappy when it cannot be done. In the before times, there was much fighting and bloodshed, Mistress…not only with witches and wizards, but with others. We kills and kills and fights and kills. Now there is peace and work. Laws. Is a good thing for house elves, Mistress. Might be no elves if not for the Service," the elf explained. "We is proud to serve, and happy when we has a Master or Mistress we likes."

Hermione stared at Eli. This meant back when she started S.P.E.W. in Hogwarts, she was trying to give free house elves freedom. No wonder they wouldn't accept clothes. They were already free and wanted Masters. They thought Dobby was crazy because he didn't want one. They didn't tell her they were free because it was considered a shame.

She looked at Severus, who was looking at Eli, a strange expression on his face.

The elf liked him. He didn't think any house elf would like him. Eli was hooked on the Potions Master when he discovered what the wizard had done to the Bug-eyed One. Sybil treated house elves horribly, since she was almost always plastered when she summoned them for more sherry. She'd curse them and sometimes even blast them with her wand if they weren't back fast enough. They all hated to serve her, but had to.

Severus used to be like Sybil when it came to house elves, but it was just plain nastiness on his part. He stopped mistreating them when Hermione came into his life, but they remembered how he was and were still afraid of him. Only Eli had been brave enough to want to bond with him. He figured anyone who would do that to the witch in the North Tower couldn't be all bad. Plus Eli suspected he would be allowed to do some naughtiness from time to time for the wizard, and house elves, though subservient, were quite close to imps in nature, and enjoyed doing devilment though they normally weren't allowed to. The Snape was perfect.

"So you want to be a servant?" Hermione asked him.

The elf nodded emphatically. Hermione looked at Severus.

"I'm so sorry, Severus. I thought you enslaved him on purpose. I didn't know he wanted to be your servant. Forgive me?" she asked her husband.

Severus looked at her. This was quite an interesting turn of events that could lead to even more interesting events. He tried to look hurt.

"I can't believe you would think I would do something like that, Hermione," he said in a wounded voice, cutting his eyes away from her dramatically.

Hermione's mouth turned down.

"I'm really sorry, Severus. I'll make it up to you, I promise," she said gently, placing a hand on his shoulder.

The Potions Master almost sniffed, but that would have been overkill. He hid a grin. Hermione was such a pushover sometimes.

"All right wife," he said, "I forgive you."

Hermione gave him a smile, and a nice wet kiss. Then she looked at Eli again, and gestured around the house.

"You did all this work?" she asked him.

The elf stuck his chest out a bit and nodded.

"Yes Mistress. In only two days I does it all," he said proudly. "Eli is a good elf."

"And Severus told you to make up the tub for us?" she asked him.

Eli looked at Severus, who seemed to go a little paler.

"Yes, Mistress, and the dinner too. He says to makes it special so you could have good in-outie. So Eli does. The Master loves you he does, Mistress," Eli said, bowing low and winking at Severus slyly.

Oh ho. House elves could lie for their Masters too.

Hermione's eyebrows went up.

"In-outie?" she repeated, looking at Severus, who made an "o" with the thumb and forefinger of his left hand and thrust the long thick thumb of his right hand through the hole several times, smirking.

"Ohhhh. In-outie," Hermione said, fighting back a giggle. "Well that was very sweet of him. He can count on some very good in-outie with me, Eli."

Both the elf and Severus looked delighted. Eli bowed.

"Eli must go and gets dessert," the elf said waving his hand at the table and heating the food just a bit more. "Is there anything else you need, Master?"

Severus looked down at the little elf, then rubbed his head between his ears, the elf rolling his little head in pleasure.

"No Eli, you've covered everything excellently," he replied.

"Thanks you, Master," the elf beamed at the wizard, and bowing to Hermione, he winked out.

Hermione looked at the lobster hungrily, licking her lips.

"This lobster is even bigger than the one I had with Lord Hornswallow," she said appreciatively

This made the wizard feel good. Obviously Eli was really linked with him. The elf had supplied a better wine, and now a better meal than she had with the wealthy wizard. Eli was really a gods-send.

Severus opened the cracked lobster tail and piled the succulent white meat on his plate. He placed some corn, potatoes and salad on Hermione's plate, but no lobster. Then he put vegetables on his own.

"Hey, what about some lobster for me," she said, frowning at him.

In answer, Severus picked up a piece of lobster in his fingers, swirled it slowly in the clarified butter, inverted it, and brought it to Hermione's lips.

The witch's eyes went rather hot as she opened her mouth and let him push the meat in, her lips closing on his fingers and sucking off the juices and the butter sensuously. The wizard made a small noise in the back of his throat.

"I thought I'd feed you," he said in a silkily voice, noting a little butter dripped on her robe. "Open your robe so it doesn't get stained."

Hermione did so, opening the robe very wide, revealing her body. Severus' black eyes swept over her, as she reached for a piece of lobster and dipped it into the butter.

"You need to open yours, too Severus. This might get messy," she said, a rather wicked grin on her face as he did so, revealing his body as well. He was already coming back to life as she brought the sweet meat to his lips. The wizard took it, then grasped her wrist and licked her fingers with his tongue.

Hermione stared at him mesmerized. A bit of butter had dripped on his belly.

"I'll get that," she said, leaning around the table, lowering her head and licking the butter from the thin spatter of black hair just below his navel. Severus thumped again, hitting her chin. Hermione grinned up at him, then straightened, as his coal black eyes met hers. They were smoldering. Then he picked up another piece of lobster, swirled it in the butter, and purposely let a bit of it drip on the witch's breast before he brought it to her mouth.

"Oops," he breathed, very unconvincingly. "Excuse me, wife. Allow me…"

Severus grasped her breast gently, squeezing it slightly as he lowered his head and licked the butter from the swell of it. Then his mouth slid down over her nipple and he suckled her.

"You didn't drip any butter there, Severus," she sighed, squirming a little.

Severus released her breast and straightened, his eyes glittering.

"I didn't wife? Ah, my mistake then," he purred.

"Severus, I think if we are going to actually get through this meal, that we save the "clean-up" for later," she said in a low voice, also holding a bit of a purr.

Severus sighed.

She was right of course. At this rate, he'd be doing her on top of the food within the next ten minutes. And he really was hungry. He took a part of the pile of lobster on his plate and transferred it to hers, sliding over the other bowl of butter.

"Be as sloppy as you like wife," he said, his eyes drifting over her.

The wizard hoped some butter would find its way into her pubic hair. It would be a good excuse to get his tongue between her thighs. Hermione ate a piece of lobster, and sure enough, a nice bit of butter dripped on her lower belly, then rolled down to her soft chestnut hair.

The witch looked at him and smirked.

The dark wizard smiled.

Eli didn't have to worry about dessert.

* * *

When Eli walked out of the kitchen half an hour later, he saw the Mistress but didn't see the Master. The elf stopped in his tracks as he looked at the witch.

Hermione's robe was shoved back off her shoulders, the front of her body completely exposed, and slightly slumped. She was looking downward, and moving oddly, her hair hanging in front of her face, which was quite red, and she alternated between panting, biting her lip and whispering what sounded like a name and an assortment of obscenities. The witch was grasping the edges of the chair so tightly, her knuckles were white, and her knees were visible on either side of her.

Curious, Eli walked around a bit further, and his ears went straight back. He had found the Master.

Severus was kneeling before Hermione's chair, his pale hands holding the thighs of the witch firmly upward as he feasted at her core hungrily, his head twisting back and forth sensuously as he pleasured her with his tongue. Hermione let out a squeal and Eli snapped out of his daze and retreated back into the kitchen, the strawberry drizzled chocolate cheesecake still balanced in his clawed hand.

Must be some other kind of in-outie.

Hermione let out another squeal, her head falling back, as her body slumped, her amber eyes rolling up for a moment, the witch releasing the chair and locking her fingers into Severus' hair.

"Yes…yes baby," she groaned, her fingers massaging Severus' scalp as the wizard's tongue thrust inside her, twisting and lapping up her release thirstily, letting out his own groans of pleasure as he drank her down. She tasted so good.

Finally Hermione ran relatively dry and Severus planted several kisses on her labia then slowly lifted his head, his lips glistening a bit before he licked them dry. He looked up at the panting witch as he let her legs down.

Hermione had an idiot's smile plastered on her face as she looked down at him dazed and sated. Severus gave her a small grin as he rose, planted a kiss on her mouth then sat down heavily in the chair. He had another erection.

Severus looked at her, his eyes hot.

"I didn't think it possible, Hermione, but I do believe marriage has made you even sweeter," he said in a low voice, licking his lips again.

Hermione simply smiled at him, her breathing evening out as one of her hands rested against her breast. Severus' eyes fell on her wedding ring, and his heart felt full.

His. Again. Forever this time. No Lord Voldemort to ruin it. This time it would truly be forever.

Eli winked in, his eyes wide as he offered up the cheesecake.

"Dessert, Master?" he asked as Hermione pulled her robe closed and tied it. Her eyes fell on the cake.

"Ooh, cheesecake!" she exclaimed. "Chocolate cheesecake too. You know that's my favorite, Severus. Thank you," she said to the wizard as Eli deftly slid it on the table.

Severus looked down at the amazing elf. He did know strawberry chocolate cheesecake was her favorite, but he hadn't told Eli. The elf must have pulled it from his mind.

"You're very welcome, wife," Severus replied.

Eli was certainly making him look good.

Hermione picked up a knife and cut both herself and Severus a healthy slice of the cake. She sliced off a bit with her fork and slid it into her mouth. Her eyes went half-lidded.

"Better than sex," she breathed.

Then she looked up to see Severus scowling at her.

"Better than ordinary sex, not yours Severus," she amended, grinning.

Severus snorted as he cut into his cheesecake, thinking he was not about to be outshined by a damn cake.

The wizard took a bite.

Damn. It was good…but sex was still much, much better. Maybe a little kindness was in order here.

Eli returned with a cold pitcher of rich, creamy milk and two glasses.

"Mmm mmm!" Hermione said, her mouth full of cheesecake as she gesticulated toward the milk.

Severus poured the witch a tall glass and she brought it to her lips, drinking deeply. She swallowed.

"Oh gods, that's good…that's so good," she breathed. "Severus, I swear this is the best meal I've ever had."

The wizard looked at her.

"Even better than the one at that exclusive restaurant, the Bee's Knee's?" he asked her.

"Oh yes. Far, far better. I didn't get cheesecake there either," she said smiling at him. She leaned forward and ran her hand over his cheek gently, the Potions Master slightly closing his eyes at the feel of her soft hand caressing his face.

"Everything is so wonderful, Severus. I didn't think it would be so wonderful," she said softly. "The house. The Jacuzzi. The food. You."

Severus caught Hermione's hand and kissed her palm gently, then released it.

"It's not over yet, Hermione…we've hardly started," he replied, feeling buoyed by her appreciation, a strong pulse of love for the witch throbbing through him.

As if on cue, soft music began playing. Both witch and wizard looked toward the living room.

The blinds had been drawn, and the furniture all moved aside and miniaturized to create a good-sized space in the center. Soft lights from an unknown source whirled around the walls creating a romantic atmosphere.

Eli.

Severus looked at his wife, then stood, offering her his hand and bowing sharply.

"Shall we dance, wife?" he asked her. "Vertically, that is."

Hermione smiled up at him.

"I'd be delighted, husband," she said softly taking his hand.

Severus walked her to the center of the floor and swung her out in a wide arc, before drawing her smartly into his chest and dipping her gracefully over his arm. He leaned over her.

"I love you, Mrs. Snape," he said softly, kissing her gently before drawing her back against him.

They began to waltz.

* * *

Eli stood in the doorway of the kitchen, his ears cocked back, his eyes closed, one long finger swaying as if conducting the music. He was smiling. His Master seemed very happy and pleased with his service. The elf opened his eyes and watched Severus and Hermione glide across the room, the witch's head resting on the Potions Master's chest. His robes were still open, though Hermione had lightly tied hers when Eli appeared with the cheesecake.

Eli sighed. He would be doing service in a happy house this time, with a Master that appreciated him. And there would be children, the elf knew. Maybe a lot of children to love and spoil the way they should be loved and spoil. Suddenly Eli changed the music, grinning wickedly.

Severus froze as the boisterous music started playing. He started to scowl.

"Ooh! A polka! Come on, Severus!" Hermione exclaimed, grabbing the wizard and bouncing happily, which made her robe fall open a bit.

Hm. Maybe there was something to this polka business.

Now enthusiastic, Severus bounded around the living room with her, his black eyes on her robe, which was opening more and more. Hermione's breasts shook and jiggled merrily as they trotted back and forth, spinning about, hopping and skipping in time with the music. Severus had no idea what he was doing and just followed the laughing Hermione's lead. Long as her body parts were bouncing around like that, he'd keep dancing.

Hermione cracked up as Severus danced with her. His legs were so long that his knees rose quite high. His students at Hogwarts would never believe the dour, snarky Potions Master would be caught dead doing a half naked polka with a half naked witch, much less enjoying it. But then again, there were a lot of things the students couldn't imagine him doing that he did quite well.

Severus caught Hermione by her hands and whirled the witch around and around until she was dizzy, her laughter filling the house and his heart, her lovely face flushed with pleasure and amber eyes twinkling with happiness. Not to mention her robe was wide open now, the sash dangling. Severus had deviously managed to work the knot out of it while they were sashaying up and down the living room. So his eyes were on much more than her happy, smiling face.

Finally exhausted, they spun to a stop, the music slowing again as they walked back over to the table, which was now cleared and held a pot of steaming, fresh coffee. Two coffee mugs, a cup of cream, and a cup of sugar were set nearby.

Severus poured coffee into both mugs, and Hermione fixed hers the way she liked it, light and sweet. Severus drank his black.

"That was fun, Severus," Hermione grinned at him, "I didn't know you could polka."

"Neither did I," he replied sipping his coffee, his eyes sweeping over her. Her robe was still open. "Though the view did much to encourage me to learn the steps. I particularly enjoyed the bouncing."

Hermione laughed.

"Severus, you're incorrigible," she said.

He arched an eyebrow at her.

"Indeed," he replied, thinking it was time to break in their marriage bed again.

Severus gave an extremely exaggerated yawn, stretching his arms over his head and letting one fall on to Hermione's chair. He leaned in.

"I'm feeling a bit tired, wife. I think it would be best if we retired to bed," he said.

Hermione looked at him soberly, her eyes dropping to his fully erect organ.

"Not all of you looks tired," she said with a smirk.

She knew what he was up to.

Severus looked down at his member which was standing at attention and waiting for orders.

"Well, maybe not all of me is too tired," he conceded. His erection had told on him after all, "Still, I think we should go to bed."

He gave Hermione a look that made her almost melt into a puddle of desire.

"Think you're up to showing me a bit of kindness? You haven't been very kind to me, Severus, though you've been very good to me," she said in a low voice, her eyes darkening as her need came down on her. She wanted to feel him take her hard and raw, the way she was used to.

Severus could barely fight back the growl that rose in his throat as Hermione's eyes clearly showed what she wanted next.

"You want kindness, witch?" he asked, grabbing her roughly by her arm and yanking her out of the chair, pulling her against him.

Hermione felt a gush of lubrication roll through her, wetting her thighs almost instantly.

"Yes," she said softly, "I need a lot of kindness from you, Severus."

"Then my wife, kindness you will most certainly get," he replied, turning and dragging her toward the bedroom.

Eli watched them go, looking a bit confused at the seeming attitude change. Though his Master had been scowling, the witch looked extremely pleased at being dragged away.

The elf shook his head as he cleared the table.

Once again, humans were extremely strange.

* * *

Severus pulled Hermione into their bedroom and let her loose as he walked over to his discarded robe, fished in the pocket and took out his wand. He warded the door securely, then looked at his wife. He made quite a sight, his robe open, his lean, muscled body and erect organ visible. Hermione drew a breath as he walked toward her slowly.

He circled the witch, then caught her against his chest, making her face the bed.

"You see that bed there, Hermione Snape?" he asked her, his voice a bit harsh.

"Yes," Hermione said, her eyes resting on the bed she'd abandoned years ago.

"That is our marriage bed. You will never again leave it. Do you understand me? I don't care if you are angry with me, or if we've had words. Every night for as long as I live I expect you here beside me. If you attempt to leave it, I will retrieve you and put you back where you belong, with me," he hissed against her ear. "This I vow."

Hermoine felt the stirring of magic as Severus' Wizard's Oath took hold. He spun her to face him. His eyes were hot, feral as he pulled her robes wider, and yanked the witch against his hard body. He stared down at her.

"Your need is on you. I wonder if I put that need in you, Hermione? Remember when you first came to me?" he asked her, "You were a strong little witch, I'll give you that. You never tried to run from me or beg me to stop. I always wondered about that. Why?" he asked her his eyes on her mouth.

Hermione thought about this.

"I was afraid if I ran, you would let me keep running…not let me come back to you. As far as asking you to stop, how could I when all I had wanted for so long was to be intimate with you? It was you, Severus who told me along with the rest of the first years, that there is a price for acquiring the things we desire, a cost that all must pay one way or another. I had an idea you would be that way. You were always that way in my fantasies, remember?" she asked him, leaning into him now.

Severus' eyes glittered. Yes, he remembered. He remembered the first fantasy he had ever seen in her mind. Hermione had been twenty years old when they became lovers, but the fantasy he saw occurred in his classroom, with her as a student.

She had written close to a thousand lines when he had summoned her to his desk. He looked up at her, his hands folded on the desk in front of him. She was standing there in her student robes, looking at him rather defiantly. He scowled at her slightly as his eyes raked over.

"Miss Granger," he had said silkily, "Now that you have written these lines, I must ask you, do you believe you are a bad girl?"

Hermione looked at him.

"No, Professor. I do not believe I am a bad girl," she had replied.

"You certainly are a bad girl, Miss Granger, and I will prove it to you," he said, rising from behind his desk and stalking around it. Hermione turned as he did so, and backed up against the wizard's desk as he stopped and stood close in front of her. Hermione started breathing a bit faster because of his proximity.

"You see?" he said in a quiet voice, "You are having bad girl reactions already, Miss Granger."

Then he took out his wand and flicked it at her, leaving her in her bra and knickers. She squealed but didn't try to cover herself, she just looked up at the wizard, her rate of breathing increasing. The Potions Master then flicked his wand at the door of the classroom, casting a ward and a silencing spell. He looked back at her with an eyebrow arched.

"Why aren't you screaming or protesting what I've done to you, Miss Granger? I have you next to naked in a warded, silenced classroom. Why aren't you making an attempt at covering yourself instead of leaning back so deliciously on my desk?" he asked her silkily.

Hermione didn't answer him.

Then in Hermione's fantasy the Potions Master had shagged her hard, very hard on top of his desk. The witch's fantasy had been very realistic, as well as shocking and arousing to the dark wizard. Severus had less of a conscience then, and after graduation pursued Hermione until he finally did what he knew she wanted him to do, and became her lover.

Severus was extremely rough with her at first, wanting to impress upon her she was not dealing with an ordinary wizard with ordinary needs. Severus lived a dark, pleasureless life for the most part…the willing young witch's body was his only pleasure and he indulged himself thoroughly believing that Hermione would regain her senses and leave him, so he took as much from her as he could.

Hermione knew for certain she was dealing with a dark, demanding, harsh, and very sexual man who would not allow her to deny him anything. Severus tested her sexual limits constantly to see if his actions could drive her away, but instead she came to crave him and his brutal possessions, and this in turn made him crave her to the point she became an obsession. Even as he tried to cover her in his darkness, her selfless love broke through and brought him light.

Severus may have been the one to put the "twist" in Hermione Snape, but it was a twist he was more than willing to indulge whenever she wanted it.

He looked at Hermione.

"Our vows have been restored, Hermione, and our separation wiped away from the wizarding world's memory. But we both know what we have gone through, that we were parted, and that our marriage bed has been profaned. We've been lovers for several months, but tonight…tonight I reclaim you as my wife, my witch, my eternal love, and you will reclaim me. Nothing will ever come between us again," he said to her possessively.

Severus then turned Hermione and slowly drew her robe off her shoulders, sliding it down over her arms and letting it fall to the floor. He turned her back toward him.

"Remove my robe, wife," he said to the witch, turning his back toward her

Hermione slowly slid Severus' robe off his shoulders, revealing his strong back and the raised pattern of scars the wizard received when tortured by the Dark Lord. She let the robe fall to the floor exposing his muscled buttocks and long, muscular legs.

The wizard turned back to her and placed his hands on her shoulders.

"Will you love me always, Hermione?" Severus asked her, his black eyes searching her face intently.

The witch looked up at him.

"Yes, Severus," Hermione said softly, her amber eyes shining with emotion, "and this time I promise it will be forever."

The wizard smiled at her for a moment, then his eyes went exceedingly dark. Severus looked over at the bed, then back to the witch. In one fluid motion he swept Hermione into his arms, kissing her hungrily as he carried her to the bed and fell into it with her. He pulled her up to the pillows at the head of the bed and rolled on top of the witch, resting on his elbows as he studied Hermione's face.

He stared at her, thinking about all they had gone through to find each other again. Then he hoisted himself above her and nestled himself between her thighs. Hermione bit her lip as she felt him against her, hot and hard. She was soaked, and could smell her own desire. She looked up at him, the want in her eyes speaking to the wizard louder than her words ever could.

"My wife," Severus breathed, lifting his hips high and driving into the witch, making her shriek and arch under his power, as he reclaimed her. He held himself still, feeling her pulse around him as her body eased back to the bed. Hermione's eyes were glistening.

"More, husband," she said, her voice quavering. "I need you."

"You have me," Severus growled, "Always, witch. Now let's break this bed back in, wife."

Severus began to pound into Hermione's body, a look of concentration and hunger on his pale face as he stared down at the witch, making her cry out as he took her with abandon, burying himself in her heat and her love, the strength of his possession forcing the witch upward on the pillows, Severus dragging her back down to keep from crushing her up against the headboard. He hissed as her juices squished around him, wetting his lower belly, grunting with pleasure as his loins slapped against her, his pale body moving back and forth.

Hermione gave herself over to Severus, loving the feel of his body on top of hers, inside of hers, the intimate caress of him, the ache of him, the strength of him. She belonged to Severus, and could feel his ownership pulsing inside her, and her own possession of him, as her body welcomed his sweet, pounding intrusion. It was as if the wizard was knocking on the door to her very soul, and she was opening to him, letting him in. He shifted his hips, slamming into her at an angle, the witch buckling under him. She began to shudder and tighten around him, the wizard grimacing her body clamped down, sucking at his girth, pulling him under.

"Yes, love," Severus breathed, his hips beginning to pick up speed. "You're mine. Every part of you…is mine, witch. Mine alone. Now come for me"

The wizard dropped on Hermione, locking his mouth to hers as he continued to plow into her powerfully, taking her fully, the witch unable to move away from his strokes now, crying out into his mouth, her shrieks driving him to an even higher passion. Severus took Hermione powerfully, showing her all the kindness she could ever want, the wizard claiming her body like a new territory. She was his wife now, his other half, the woman that he would cleave to for the rest of his life. Severus pistoned into Hermione, feeling her body heat up as the pressure around him became stronger, tighter, slicker as she approached the pinnacle. He pulled his mouth away from hers, his black eyes locked to her unfocused amber orbs. Her mouth was hanging open, her hair plastered to her face. She was so beautiful. So lost to what she was feeling. Severus groaned, his face contorting as he felt pressure building. He was almost there, and didn't want to go without her.

"Come!" he growled at Hermione, lifting his hips, pulling almost out of the witch, then driving into her with long hard, full strokes, sweat pouring off of his pale body in rivulets, soaking both Hermione and the sheets.

Hermione's nails suddenly dug into his sides and the pain triggered Severus just as the witch climaxed, both pulsing, throbbing, releasing, shouting and shrieking together as bliss swept over them, liquid heat meeting liquid heat, bodies flowing together to form a single, rippling unit, love making their connection sweeter and more complete. Severus buried his face in Hermione' hair and held on as his passion and love for his wife spilled out of him, filling her even as he felt her own passion bathe him in her love. The couple clung to each other, witch and wizard, husband and wife, riding the swell of ecstasy, their hearts beating as one heart, their souls binding as one soul, cresting and breaking apart, slowly drifting back to earth, falling gently to the shore of completion.

They lay together, sated, panting, Severus turning his head so he could kiss Hermione's lips. He got a mouthful of her damp hair in the process, but didn't care. The consummation of their marriage and reclamation of the witch had been beautiful. A little hair couldn't change that.

He studied Hermione. She wore an exhausted smile and the love in her eyes was heady. Severus kissed her again. He was still inside her warm body, and he didn't want to move, but she was already beginning to shift uncomfortably beneath his weight. Reluctantly, he slid off her and rolled to his back. The sheets were completely soaked but he was too tired to reach for his wand. He pulled Hermione over to him and tucked her in the crook of his arm.

"The bed has been properly christened," he said to her softly, wiping her hair from her forehead and kissing it.

Hermione grimaced a little. She was getting cold.

"More like it's been baptized," she replied, shivering and tucking into Severus' warm body. The wizard felt her trembling and forced himself up to retrieve the wand. He scourgified the bed, Hermione and himself, then lay back down beside her.

They lay side by side in silence for a while, but the happiness they felt spoke volumes.

"I want you to stop wearing the patch, Hermione," Severus said suddenly, turning to face her. "I want to have another child."

Hermione lay there, not seeming to react to this. Then Severus saw the tears. He was taken aback and drew her into his arms, embracing her tenderly.

"Don't you want to, Hermione? Or…if it's too soon, we can wait. It's up to you, wife," he said softly.

He hadn't meant to make her cry. He had thought telling her he wanted children soon would make her happy.

"I don't want to wait, Severus. Jacob has been gone for years. I want children, Severus. The sooner, the better," she said.

Severus arched an eyebrow at her.

"Is tonight too soon to start?" he asked Hermione.

He kind of liked the idea of his wife conceiving a child on their wedding night.

In answer, Hermione tapped her inner thigh, and a red patch appeared. Severus looked at it.

"You can do the honors," she said to him softly.

The Potions Master looked at her for a moment, then reached down a pale hand, scratched at the edge of the patch with his nail and pulled it off, dropping it off the side of the bed.

The couple smiled at each other, and the thought of impregnating Hermione got a definite rise out of his cock. Hermione felt him throb against her leg and looked at her husband in surprise.

"Already, Severus?" she said.

The Potions Master gave her a small smirk.

"I suspect there's a child or two in there clamoring to get out," he said, looking down at his rapidly swelling organ.

Hermione sidled a little closer to him, a sexy smile on her face as she rubbed against the wizard.

"Well, I've got the key right here," she replied, kissing him.

* * *

Hermione stepped through the floo first with her carryall bag. She turned expectantly waiting for Severus, who followed her, holding a small bundle in his arms and talking to it gently. A loud little cry went up.

"You certainly have your mother's lungs, Argus," Severus said to his son, smirking as Hermione put the bag down and brought her hands to her hips. She scowled at Severus.

"And just what is that supposed to mean?" she asked him

"Probably that he'll be very good at holding his breath underwater," the wizard replied, giving Hermione a wicked grin. "He'll be able to pass your talents on to the female populace."

Hermione's mouth dropped open.

"Severus! He's only three days old! And already you're talking about him being with women," Hermione said, frowning.

Severus grinned down at the baby.

"Well you saw for yourself, Hermione. My nose isn't the only attribute I've passed on to the boy," he said rather proudly.

"He'll grow into it," Hermione said, opening the bag and taking out some bottles.

Eli winked in, standing on tiptoes trying to see the baby.

"The young Master is home now!" the elf said delightedly. "Oh Master! Mistress! Such a happy, happy day it is!"

Severus lowered Argus so Eli could see him. The elf's eyes went soft.

"A handsome boy he is, sir. What is his name?" Eli asked.

"Argus Jacob Snape," he replied, bringing the baby back up.

"I'm still not sure about naming him Argus, Severus. It's the most popular name around. By the time he starts Hogwarts, almost every wizard will have the same name," she said, taking towels out of the bag.

Eli gathered up the bottles and took them to the kitchen, cast a stasis spell on them and put them in the cooler.

"I know Hermione, but the name Argus has a special significance for us. If not for Argus Filch, little Argus would not be here, because we would not be here. It is fitting we honor his memory this way, as well as Jacob's," he said.

Hermione turned and looked at him as he stared down at the baby, his black eyes unreadable. She knew he was thinking of Jacob.

"You're right Severus," she said softly, walking up to him and taking the baby. Severus looked after him longingly as she walked down the hall.

"I have to introduce Argus to his crib," she said. "Then I have to fill his bottles."

Severus perked up at this. He always wondered what breast milk tasted like. He walked behind the witch and his son.

"Can I be of assistance, wife?" he called after her, a little smirk on his pale face.

Severus would give Hermione a year or two. Then she could introduce their next child to the nursery. Maybe a girl next time.

Severus wanted a houseful of children. There wouldn't be a dunderhead among them either. He'd make sure of that.

He turned into the nursery and saw Hermione had put Argus into the crib. Apparently he took right to it, because the baby was sound asleep. Severus walked over and looked down at his son. He had the classic Snape nose, and his mother's chestnut hair. They still weren't sure what color his eyes would be but they seemed to be darkening. Maybe black, like his father's.

Hermione took a very strange looking contraption out of a small back. It had a clear large suction cup attachment, which was attached to a handle and there was a small removable bottle beneath it.

"What is that?" Severus asked, cocking his head as Hermione sat down and opened her robes, then began unbuttoning her blouse.

"A breast pump. My mum sent it. I told her we have easier ways of extracting milk here in the magical world, but she made me promise I'd try it. Mum never really trusted magic. Still, I need it to get my supply up first," Hermione said.

She opened her blouse, revealing she was braless, then removed two pads that were resting on her nipples. The Potions Master's eyes glittered as they fell on his wife's milk enlarged breasts. He bit his lip.

He watched as Hermione attached the cup to one of her breasts, then began to pump the handle. She also bit her lip. Severus' eyes narrowed as he watched milk begin to trickle into the little bottle. Hermione looked like the sensation was pleasurable. Well, she was getting her breasts sucked after all. Severus knew she liked that.

"Does that muggle machine feel as good as I do?" he asked her, his black eyes glittering.

Hermione looked up at him, still pumping.

"Of course not, Severus. Your mouth is soft, warm, alive. You feel much better than any machine could. But you wouldn't be able to save the milk," she said, giving him a smile.

Severus continued to stare at her enlarged breasts.

"Just how much milk do you produce?" he asked her.

"It's basically supply & demand, Severus. Right now, my body doesn't know how much milk to produce, so I will have to actively stimulate my breasts and pump frequently to get a steady supply going," she said. "I have plenty of bottles right now, but I still have to do this. After I get regulated, then I'll use magic to extract the milk. I need the suction now, though."

There was only a little milk in the bottle.

"Looks like slow going," the wizard commented. "You look like you could use a little help getting stimulated, wife."

Hermione looked at her husband. He had a glimmer in his eyes as he looked at her breasts.

"Severus! You aren't thinking…" she began.

"And why not, wife? It's fine for my son, isn't it?" he said silkily.

"Yes, but…" Hermione said, starting to feel a little warm.

Twisted as it was, the idea of breast-feeding Severus kind of turned her on. The wizard didn't miss the naughty little light in her eyes.

"Plus, it would be quite…helpful to your production…wouldn't it?" Severus said persuasively, still keeping the silk in his voice.

"I…I guess so," she replied.

Severus gave her a rather hungry look and closed the door. He started toward her.

Hermione's eyes shifted toward the crib.

"But Severus…the baby," she said softly, "He's in here."

"I'm sure he won't mind sharing his mother," the wizard said, kneeling before her and caressing her breast.

"He's going to have to get used to it, after all," he breathed, lowering his head and latching on her nipple gently.

Severus heard Hermione sigh, as her hand lightly locked in his hair.

The Potions Master found he liked breast milk very, very much.

* * *

Ginny Weasley and Lord Percival Hornswallow the 2nd began to date socially two months after meeting. It was quite a chaste little affair. Ginny wasn't rushing into any intimate relationships and informed Percival she had no problem with him dating other witches. This bothered him a little bit. Even the women he dated were jealous of each other. The fact that Ginny didn't mind him dating or even sleeping with other witches gave him mixed feelings. On the one hand he was glad she wasn't clingy or possessive. On the other hand, he wished she were, just a little. So he'd know he mattered to her. He certainly didn't want her seeing any other wizards.

Percival found he enjoyed the fiery redhead's company. She was rather outspoken and combative, loving to debate and argue. He figured she probably had to be that way, growing up with six brothers.

She was also quite thrifty, and they didn't do fancy restaurants as often as having lunch in the park. She hated wasting money. Once in a blue moon she might consent to going to a restaurant, but she insisted the menus have prices on them. And then she would pay her own way. She was nearly impossible to court. He rarely got a chance to spend a dime on her, which he found frustrating. Percival hated to see her counting out coins carefully and handing them to a vendor, waiter or cashier.

They had gotten into a debate about it four months into their spending time together. They were on a first name basis now. Percival still had yet to kiss her properly. He got a hello and good-bye peck. Sometimes she would hold his hand as they walked through a park or along a lake. She was driving the wizard crazy, to be honest. She was beautiful, and her standoffishness attracted him greatly. There weren't many things in the world that Percival couldn't have if he wanted, but Ginny was one of those things. And Percival knew if he pushed her for more intimacy, he might drive her off.

"Ginny, I have more money that you do. Why don't you let me treat you when we are out? You are a lovely young witch, and I don't mind footing the bill for our outings. Being with you brings me so much pleasure," he said persuasively.

"Because Percival, I don't want to feel indebted to you, that's why. This way, I don't have to feel guilty about being the way I am, taking my time…just enjoying your company as a friend. If you were paying for everything, I'd feel like you were tallying it up in your head, waiting for me to "pay up" or something. And don't say that wouldn't happen Percival. You might not consciously do it, but all men do it," she said evenly.

"Ginny, I would like very much to be more than your friend," he said sincerely, taking her hand. They were walking around a lake in Shropshire Park. "I've never known a witch like you. You are very different, very special. You have opinions. Convictions. A temper. Plus you are beautiful. Not just lovely. In the beginning you were lovely, but now to me you are beautiful, from your flaming red hair down to the smallest freckle."

He paused, stopping the witch and turning her toward him.

"Ginny, I can't help that I'm wealthy or that I believe that a lovely woman is worth spending my money on. I know you have your own beliefs and convictions concerning this, Ginny and good reasons why as well. But I assure you I am not the kind of wizard that tallies up how much I spend on a woman and expect her to ring like a register and fall into my bed when I've spent enough. I've had to deal with women that will sleep with me after only a dinner, and not necessarily a high priced one, or even after a simple drink. Now I know that doesn't sound bad for most wizards…they would love to be in my boots I imagine. But it all gets old. There is no challenge, and worse, no feelings. Every witch, with the exception of you, would just as easily fall into the next wealthy wizard's bed."

"What's worse, they are all looking to sleep their way into marriage. Counting on their bodies and their pedigrees to land them a rich husband so they can go tearing through his accounts, hold grand and senseless parties, and buy useless trinkets that cost a working wizard's salary for a year, only to be stuck in a box someplace after wearing it once," he said, rubbing his brow in exasperation.

He looked at the witch. Ginny was staring at him, listening.

"Ginny, I am a wealthy man but I have no wife, no children. I want that badly. And I want a real wife, a partner, not a showpiece. Not a witch that has been shuffled from bed to bed depending on who was wealthier than whom. I'm looking for a wife, Ginny," he said honestly. "And you…you are…"

Ginny raised her hand.

"Don't say anything more, Percival. Please," she said, taking her hand gently out of his.

"But Ginny," he said, walking alongside her.

"Percival, there is a lot more than just me to deal with. I come from a large, close-knit, often extremely annoying family. They interfere in everything. Simply because we love each other so much. They can be a bit much, and none of us are society people," she said softly.

"I'm going to be honest with you, Percival. I am very attracted to you, but you come with a lot of baggage too. Your wealth for example. You're just so damn rich and there are social niceties that have to be attended to that I don't know I could deal with. When we are out together, it's like you're in my world. And you fit pretty well. You're the first rich wizard I know that enjoys standing on a sidewalk eating hot dogs. But I don't think I could fit into your world like that."

"I'd want to work, for example. The wives of rich wizards don't work. Do you see what I'm talking about here? I browse thrift shops and cut-rate stores. I enjoy saving money. I learned to be that way because we grew up poor. I'm not going to be able to change that…I don't want to change that. I'm used to cleaning my own house, not having servants at my beck and call. Most witches would love that, but I doubt I would. I'm a pureblood like you are Percival, but don't you see how different our worlds are? They are bound to clash if we were to become more than what we are now," she said as they rounded the lake.

"I could deal with the clashing, Ginny. I'm not looking for a wife to fit into society…I'm looking for a wife who can fit into my life as a man, an ordinary wizard. If you don't want servants, you don't have to have them. But remember, that is their livelihood, how they make their living and support their families. But there is enough to for them to do without waiting on you hand and foot. If you want to work, that would be fine with me. It would be better than you lounging around doing nothing. And as far as the social occasions go, I would leave that up to you. I go to many events stag by choice. It doesn't bother me to do so. I could adjust my world to make it good for you, Ginny…" he said.

Ginny laughed softly.

"We're talking like we are going to get married," she said. "You haven't even kissed me, Percival. We might not even be compatible."

Percival looked at her, his green eyes heating up.

"I have a feeling we could be quite compatible, Ginny Weasley," he said a bit heatedly. "I've been wanting to kiss you from the first time you bought me a hot dog. Let me kiss you now. Please."

Ginny looked at Percival. He was handsome, sweet and extremely patient. She knew he was attracted to her the second week of their association. She constantly told him she was off of wizards for the time being, and he insisted they go out as friends…no pressure. And he had done well until tonight. She had to admit he was different than the other wizards she had met. Plus, she was quite attracted to him, and had wondered what it would be like to kiss the wizard. Maybe it was time to find out.

"All right, Percival," she said, holding up her hand as the wizard started to go for her immediately, stopping him in his tracks. "But a regular kiss. No tongue. No roaming hands."

Percival hadn't been planning on fondling the witch. He knew he wouldn't get away with it. But the tongue thing. He would have definitely tried to explore her mouth.

"No tongue, no roaming hands," he agreed, "but I can embrace you, can't I?"

"As long as it isn't too tight, and you don't start rubbing against me," she said.

He nodded and Ginny closed her eyes.

Percival looked at her and didn't move. Finally Ginny opened one eye.

"What's wrong?" she asked him.

"Well, you stood there and closed your eyes. I was waiting for someone to yell "Fire" and cut you down. You looked like you were standing in front of a muggle firing squad," he said evenly. "You're supposed to close your eyes when I kiss you, not before I kiss you.'

Ginny shook her head.

"I'm sorry Percival," she said softly. "You can kiss me now. I won't close my eyes unless I feel the need to."

Percival smiled at the witch and gently wrapped his arms around her slender waist, drawing her into him lightly. He lowered his head and pressed his lips against hers, kissing her tenderly, moving his mouth against hers gently, his head moving slightly.

Ginny felt his gentleness and responded to it, her arms going around Percival's neck before she knew it was happening as she returned his kiss. She felt a bit of a tingle run through her body. His arms were strong and his body hard beneath his robes. He held her firmly, capturing her lips between his own as if tasting them. He felt very, very good…and that tingle was quickly becoming something else.

Percival could feel Ginny responding to him, and there was nothing cold and practiced about her. He was coaxing this response from the witch, pulling passion out of her, true passion. It was so different than what he experienced with other witches. Percival was becoming drunk with the feel of it. The wizard badly wanted to deepen the kiss and pull her to him tighter…he could feel Ginny would accept him. But no…he had agreed to her rules. He couldn't risk angering her, not now, not after she had allowed him this sweetness. Reluctantly, he broke the kiss, and looked at the witch. Ginny's eyes were closed, and her mouth still held in a way that was just asking for more. But he didn't give it to her.

Ginny felt Percival pull away, and wanted so much to lean into him and continue the kiss. It had been just that sweet. Actually, she would have liked for him to hold her tighter. There was a little flame inside her now. The little flame that told her that she was interested in more than a platonic friendship, the little flame that told her she would like something more from the wizard than that single kiss. Ginny opened her brown eyes, and they were heated.

Percival could have danced at the way she looked at him, before she unwound her arms from around his neck and stepped out of his grasp, regrouping

"So, what did you think? Are we compatible," he asked her.

Ginny looked at him and began walking. Percival fell in step beside her, his brows raised in askance.

"I think," Ginny said softly, "that you need to meet my family, Percival. See if you can take them before I tell you whether or not I think we are compatible. We eat together every Sunday…almost the whole family, anyway. I think you should come this Sunday."

Percival looked at her. She wanted him to meet her family. This could be a very good thing, or a very bad one. His green eyes swept over the witch. He wanted her. If breaking bread with her family could bring him closer to acquiring her, hell, he'd do it.

"I'd be happy to have Sunday dinner with your family," he replied smiling at her.

Ginny looked at him, then thought about Fred and George working him over, trying to get him to invest in their joke shop, and her mother…gods…her mother. She knew what Molly would do. And her father. Merlin. Well, there was nothing for it. If her family didn't run the wizard off, maybe she and Percival could explore their feelings about each other further. It made no sense to get involved with the wizard, then find out he didn't like her family. Ginny was family-oriented. Irritating as they could be, she would never throw them off for a wizard. Ever. If he didn't like them, then that was the end of that.

She gave him a little half-smile.

"You say that now, Percival. We'll see how happy you are after dinner," she said.

They took another walk around the lake, mostly in silence.

Then Percival escorted her home.

* * *

A/N: And that is the end of Part 4. Now, I need to let you know that the rest of this story becomes very Ginny Percival oriented with Hermione, Severus and their family appearing in the epilogue. I did this because when I was writing the story quite a few readers requested that I tell more about Percival and Ginny, so…I did. Got to give the people what they want, besides I wanted to see if I could write another couple…so if you keep reading, you can let me know if I was successful or not. But thanks so much for reading this far. 


	5. You Promised It Would Be Forever Final

**You Promised It Would Be Together Final Chapter**

Ginny told her mother and father that she was bringing a guest home on Sunday, someone she wanted them to meet. Molly Weasley, on finding out it was a male guest was beside herself. She was in the kitchen, wearing a flour-dusted apron, cracking eggs into a bowl. Her father was also in the kitchen, keeping his wife company as he read the paper. Molly turned to her daughter

"Is he your beau, dear?" she asked Ginny anxiously. Ginny had never, ever brought a wizard home to meet her family.

Ginny rolled her eyes.

"No, mum, he's just a friend," she replied.

"I've yet to see you bring a friend to dinner," Arthur Weasley said, looking up from the Daily Prophet, his brown eyes twinkling. "Nor a male one at least."

"Well, he is a rather special friend," she said to her father, reddening a little.

"Oh ho. A 'special' friend," he said, "that makes all the difference."

Ginny scowled at her dad, and he chuckled, returning to his paper.

"I just want you to be nice to him, Mum. Dad. And make Fred and George and the others act at least halfway decent. You know how atrocious they are," the witch said.

Molly put her hands on her hips.

"Now when have you known us not to be nice to anyone, Ginerva Weasley?" she asked her daughter, a sour look on her motherly face.

"I was just saying..." Ginny said lamely, her face red. Her parents always made her feel like a little girl.

"You were just saying nothing," her mother scolded her, "He will be treated like one of the family. That's good enough for anyone, including 'special' friends."

Her mother went back to cracking eggs.

"That's what I'm afraid of," Ginny said under her breath.

* * *

Percival looked in the mirror at himself. He wore a nice set of dress robes…but not too elaborate. He had to search around his huge wardrobe for this particular set. Ginny had asked him not to dress formal. But he felt he should make a good impression on her parents.

He didn't see many things that made Ginny Weasley nervous, but obviously his going to "The Burrow" did. She explained they grew up at the Burrow, a very small somewhat rickety house, and that when Fred and George became successful, they wanted to move their mother into a bigger, nicer house. But Molly refused to budge.

"All my best memories of my family are here. I just couldn't leave," she said crying.

Their mother crying was always traumatic to the twins, and they shushed her and told her she didn't have to leave if she didn't want to. So they had the Burrow fortified so it wouldn't keel over, and added some more rooms. But they still lived in the original space, the kitchen and dining room being the center of most Weasley activities. Molly believed in the power of food. It could solve any ill, soothe any savage breast. Sunday supper was important to her. It was when all her family came together under the same roof, keeping their family bonds strong.

All but one, that is. Percy Weasley.

Percy was in Azkaban for being a deatheater. He was interrogated and was found to actually not have participated in a single atrocity, although he witnessed several. He told them he realized he had made a mistake joining Voldemort early on, but once a wizard took the Mark, the only way out was death. So he was forced to stay and pretend to be loyal.

The young wizard hated Voldemort, because he had an interest in the young Weasley that was not in line with what the red-haired wizard felt appropriate. That didn't stop Voldemort from buggering him though. Percy believed it was because of Ron's close association with Harry Potter that he was targeted. But because Voldemort favored him, he managed to get out of committing the horrible acts the other deatheaters did. However, he was still sent to Azkaban for having the Mark. He had a lifetime sentence.

Ginny wrote him twice a week, telling him to be strong. They were appealing his sentencing. It had been going on for almost two years now. They had gone back to hearings several times, but the Ministry Board would not release the wizard.

Like most incarcerated individuals, Percy had a chance to review his life and see exactly why he had ended up the way he had. He believed he despised his family for being 'too common'. But the truth was, he was too stuck on himself. He was proud to be a pureblood and felt it made him special, while the others in his family just took it in stride and never bothered dwelling on that. They were too busy living day to day to put on false airs. Molly didn't help and for some reason favored Percy's delicate sensibilities, buying him new things when everyone else had hand-me-downs. But Fred and George did their best to keep him humble, always pranking him and showing up and acting out when he was trying to impress other, richer purebloods. He couldn't stand his rowdy, boisterous brothers. They were an embarrassment, as was the entire family with their patched robes and hand-me-down books and such.

He was recruited by the deatheaters after he had worked at the Ministry for a couple of years, by Lucius Malfoy himself, who convinced the young wizard that Ginny's unfortunate incident in the Chamber of Secrets was merely a ruse to try and get Potter, that the witch herself was never in danger of harm. He even blamed Ron's association with Harry as the true danger. Lucius then took him about and let him get a taste of the good life, introducing him to other wealthy, powerful deatheaters that seemed to accept him. Shared service to the Dark Lord equalized everyone…they were all brothers. So Percy took the Mark. It was at the first revel that he learned what a horrible mistake he had made.

This did not absolve the wizard however. He really did want to rape Hermione when she was captive at Voldemort's stronghold, though he would have never tried it on his own. He had wanted a go at her for a long time…and it seemed rape was the only way it would have happened. He figured it couldn't hurt, because she was destined to be raped by a bunch of deatheaters anyway. He might as well join in. They weren't going to kill her after all…maybe make her wish they had, but that would have been on Hermione.

Anyway, he regretted what he had given up. Percy would give anything to sit among his boisterous, ill-mannered family and fight over the last bun, or piece of treacle tart on the dinner table. He wouldn't care if Fred and George pranked him all day, or if Ron drove him mad with stupid questions. And he would give anything, anything, to feel his mother's comforting arms around him, covering his face with kisses like she used to do, embarrassing him in front of his peers. He missed Molly. And Ginny. Sweet Ginny. She never gave up on him or forgot about him. She and his mother sent him gift baskets of fudge, meat pies and all manner of treats on holidays and his birthday. It meant so much to him. Percy wished he had appreciated what he had when he had it. He wished he could live his life all over again. He'd be different this time. But there were few second chances to be had at life, and despite all the attempts, the wizard was sure he would never see the outside of Azkaban prison again.

At Sunday dinners, a table setting was always made for Percy and an empty chair placed in front of it. Molly would look at it from time to time, and tears would fall. But her son was always in her heart, and she refused to act as if he didn't exist. This made Sunday dinner bittersweet sometimes, but she did find joy in her remaining family being together.

* * *

One good thing about going to Ginny's house for dinner, Percival finally found out where she lived. She never told him. They always met up for their dates.

Percival flew to her flat by broom, since Ginny disliked extravagance and would have balked at going to the Burrow in a carriage drawn by Pegasii. She still hadn't told her family just whom she was bringing to dinner. Most likely they would apparate there, but Percival wouldn't have minded flying with her. It would be an opportunity to hold her in his arms again. The kiss had affected the wizard very much. So much so that the next date he had with a socialite ended with him sending her home after an unsuccessful attempt at taking what she offered him after dinner and a show. Her practiced responses turned him off, and he sent the disappointed witch home in his carriage.

The wizard landed in front of a series of rather tiny run-down flats. He checked the number in his pocket and looked on the front of each flat for the corresponding digits. He found Ginny's. It wasn't as bad as most. She had planted some flowers and given the front of it a coat of paint. Still, Percival didn't like it. She deserved so much more.

Percival reduced his broom, walked up to the door and knocked on it. Ginny opened it, immediately, giving him a nervous smile and a peck on the cheek. For a moment, the wizard considered turning his head so her kiss landed on his mouth, but resisted the urge.

"Hello Percival. Please come in," she said opening the door. "I'll be ready to go in a second."

Percival walked past Ginny into the smallest flat he had ever seen in his life. The combination living room and kitchen was smaller than his walk-in closet in the manor. A bathroom and a bedroom opened off of it. He felt he could hardly turn around.

Ginny kept it nice however. It was painted a soft pastel green, and she had a lot of plants, and nice pictures on the wall, scenes of landscapes mostly. Her furniture was second-hand and mismatched. A small sofa and a loveseat. There was a small recessed bookshelf that held a number of titles, and her little kitchenette was clean and bright, pots hanging from hooks under the two small cabinets.

Ginny walked into her bedroom. Percival couldn't resist peeking in. She had a full-sized bed that almost took up the entire room. He couldn't see the witch but heard drawers opening and closing. He sat down on the sofa…right on a spring. He stood up, pulled out his wand and fixed it surreptiously, then sat down again. He noticed a picture of several red-haired people waving frantically, and stood up, walking over to examine it. Obviously it was her family. All with flaming red hair. They seemed to be in a foreign land. A couple of them were wearing fezzes. It was an old picture. Ginny was quite young. He noted a set of twins who were ruffling the hair of a rather aggravated looking brother, who kept pushing his glasses up in exasperation and swinging at their hands. He smiled.

Percival was an only child, and growing up had been lonely and rather strict. Since his family was wealthy, his parents were quite picky about who he played with. Mostly it was house elves when he could manage it. Both his parents died, one after the other shortly after he graduated Hogwarts and taking over the family business matured him quickly. It was a blessing he was sorted into Slytherin house and lived by their code of self-preservation and self-gain. Other wizards attempted to acquire his holdings while pretending to be taking him under their wings, but he never once fell for it…divining their intentions immediately.

One elderly wizard with an eye for his galleons had asked him, "Do you not trust anyone, Percival?"

To which the wizard responded, "Yes I do, sir. Myself."

Percival learned the game quite quickly and became somewhat of a pariah, though he was a brilliant businessman, with an eye for moneymaking investments. His father had drilled into him that he was a steward of the family fortune and had to make sure it would be there for his children and their children. So he did his best to do so, hoping to have plenty of children with which to share the wealth. Preferably a couple of redheaded children.

Ginny exited the bedroom. She was in a nice dark green skirt that fell below her knees and a lighter green button-up blouse. Her red hair was pulled back in a long French braid that hung down her back. She wore small green earrings and a small watch on her wrist. She didn't have on any make-up. She rarely wore it. Only on special occasions. Still, she looked wonderful. Fresh. Open. Not a bit of artifice about her. Percival wished he could kiss her again.

Ginny looked at Percival, that nervous smile still on her face.

"I'm ready," she said, "Shall we go?"

Percival rose.

"I'm ready if you are," he said, grinning at her nervousness.

Ginny walked to the door, followed by the wizard.

"Then you can't be that ready," she replied. "No one is ever really ready for the Weasleys."

Percival smirked but didn't say anything as he exited the flat. The truth was, he was looking forward to meeting Ginny's family. It seemed as if it would be an adventure.

Ginny locked and warded the door to her flat with care. Percival watched her, frowning slightly as she applied several wards.

"You are certainly piling those on," he commented.

"Well, I was cleaned out once. Someone broke in and stole everything of value I had…which wasn't much really. They left what really mattered to me…my photos and books," she said as they walked up the street to an apparation point.

Percival tried to wrap his mind around this. He had never been robbed in his life, but if he had…he would most certainly had moved from the place which had been violated.

"Why do you stay there?" he asked her, his brow furrowed. "This doesn't seem like a very good area."

Percival eyed several shady-looking young wizards in front of a flat who were watching them pass. Not a very friendly-looking lot. He slipped his hand in his pocket, gripping his wand.

"I can afford it. It's not too bad really. I'm just very careful, and it's all right. I'm not a 'victim' type. I will hex the hell out of anyone who even looks like they want to mess with me," Ginny said with a cruel little smirk. "One bloke told me I fit right in down here."

Percival didn't think so, but didn't say anything. Now that he knew where she lived, and how she lived, he would hire some extra security to watch over her home and the witch. Quietly of course. Ginny would kill him if she found out. But she wouldn't.

They arrived at the apparation point. Ginny took his hand. Percival noticed her grip was rather firm and sweaty.

"Don't be nervous, Ginny. I'm sure everything will go fine," he said, patting her hand reassuringly.

Ginny looked up at him hesitatingly.

"Um, Percival…would you mind if I introduced you as Mr. Percival Hornswallow, rather than Lord? It might make things a little less…er…tense," Ginny said in a small voice.

"Well, that would be fine, Ginny, particularly since I am going to tell your family to call me Percival," he replied.

Ginny stiffened a moment. How could she have forgotten such a thing?

"Percival, my mother might have a reaction when she hears your name. I just want to prepare you," she said.

"A reaction," Percival repeated, his eyebrows raised. "What kind of reaction?"

Ginny hesitated.

"An emotional one. She might cry. You have the same name as my brother who is in Azkaban…but we call him Percy," she said softly, her brown eyes sad.

Percival looked at the witch.

"Why is he in Azkaban?" Percival asked, hoping he wasn't being too intrusive. But he hadn't known this…not that it reflected in any way on Ginny or her family as far as he was concerned. People made their own bed of nails to lie upon, and not everyone slipped into it.

"He joined Voldemort, not understanding what he was getting into. He's in Azkaban because he was a member, but he never committed any crimes in the Dark Lord's name. We've been working on an appeal for almost two years, but the Ministry won't let him go. He used to work for them and I think they feel he needs to be punished worse than an ordinary wizard since he was one of theirs," Ginny said.

Percival nodded.

"Hopefully, your mother won't be affected too long," he said, tightening his grip on her hand.

"Mum is always affected. She is always grieving for Percy," Ginny said, "Even in her happiest moments, if you look deep enough, you can see the sadness underneath."

Percival nodded again.

"Let us go, Ginny," he said softly. "I want to meet your family."

The witch nodded, and they disapparated.

* * *

When Ginny and Percival arrived a short distance away from the Burrow, the witch was appalled to see every member of her family in the doorway, waving at them frantically, smiles on every face. Percival was delighted as the witch grimaced.

"Seems like a very friendly bunch," he said as Fred and George broke away from the group and strode up to meet them.

Percival looked at the house, trying to hide his amazement. It was at least four stories tall and built so wildly only magic could have held it up. Closer examination showed some rooms had been added on. The yard was more of a rather unkempt garden area. Gnarled trees lined the walls and there were plenty of weeds and overgrown grass. There was a large pond, and Percival could see a lot of potato-like gnomes running from clump to clump. There was also a large shed and what looked like a stone outhouse.

Fred and George walked up to the approaching couple, smiling broadly.

"Hey Ginny. Brought home some new meat, eh? An unattached male in the Weasley household. Mum's going to be on point, old boy," Fred said, looking Percival over and extending his hand with a smile. "Gred Weasley here."

Percival shook his hand and didn't get a chance to speak before the other twin stuck out his hand as well.

"Forge Weasley," he said, grinning wickedly as he too shook Percival's hand. His brown eyes swept over the wizard. "Nice robes," George commented. "Will probably be covered in gravy by the time dinner's done. You would've done better to wear something like this."

George pointed to his own worn robes.

"These are Weasley dinner robes…well seasoned from years of battling at the supper table," he said. "Been hit with everything from coffee to mashed potatoes."

Ginny rolled her eyes at her brothers and said evenly, "They are Fred and George, Percival, not Gred and Forge. Honestly."

The twins smirked.

"I am Percival Hornswallow," Percival said, smiling at the mischievous pair. He liked them already.

At his name, the twins sobered and looked at Ginny.

"You couldn't find a Frank or Ivan, Ginny? Mum's going to blow a cork the minute you introduce him," Fred said.

"Yeah," George agreed, "We're going to need waders when the dam bursts."

"Mum will be all right," Ginny said, frowning at her brothers. "Percival knows she might cry."

Fred and George scowled at the wizard a moment as if he had purposely taken their brother's name to bring grief to their mum. Then both sighed.

"A bloke can't help his name," Fred said.

"Nope, not a bit. Though I've always wondered about parents who would name their sons 'Percival,'" George said, peering at Ginny's guest with a "I'm so sorry" look.

Ginny groaned. Her brothers had no couth or tact at all. She looked over at Percival, who was smiling at her brothers. He didn't seem to be insulted.

Fred and George kept up an annoying commentary as they entered the yard. Molly Weasley wiped her hands a little self-consciously on her clean apron, while Arthur Weasley smiled, though he had on his "What are you doing with my daughter?" face. His brown eyes swept over the wizard. Tall, handsome, well-dressed, nice boots. His bearing suggested nobility. But Ginny with nobility? That was highly unlikely. Arthur knew his daughter considered the rich…well…beneath her. "All frauds and phonies," she said.

The couple approached, flanked by Fred and George who were giving Percival the once over as well. They smelled money.

Charlie, Ron and Bill Weasley, standing behind their parents studied the wizard with interest.

Ron was frowning. He was very protective of Ginny, and this wizard looked very smooth. But he didn't see any obvious signs of intimacy between them. There was no handholding and Percival wasn't standing too close to his sister. Still he was good-looking and obviously well off. And that meant trouble as far as Ron was concerned.

"I've seen that bloke before, Charlie," Bill said.

Bill worked for Gringotts as a spellbreaker. He had indeed seen Percival before, on several occasions…but just in passing.

"Yeah, he looks familiar," said Charlie.

Percival had been at a dragon auction once. He made a couple of half-hearted bids on a Horntail, but didn't purchase the animal. But the bids had been high enough to attract Charlie's notice as he stood near the pens watching the bidding.

All Molly saw was a tall, well-dressed handsome wizard of marriageable age. She tried to imagine what her grandchildren would look like as she greeted him.

"Hello. My name is Molly Weasley. I'm Ginny's mother. Welcome to the Burrow," she said.

Percival bowed and took Molly's hand and planted a gallant kiss on it, making the witch titter.

"Mrs. Weasley," he said, "A true pleasure to meet you, Madame."

All the male Weasleys looked at one another. That settled it. This wizard was definitely nobility. Percival offered his hand to Arthur.

"Mr. Weasley, I presume," the wizard said as Arthur gripped his hand firmly. "An honor to meet you, sir."

"A pleasure to meet you too, Mr…?"

"Mr. Hornswallow. Mr. Percival Hornswallow," Ginny interjected.

At Percival's name all the Weasleys with the exception of Fred, George and Ginny, stiffened, then looked at Molly, who stared up at him.

"Percival?" she asked the wizard. He nodded.

Yes, Mrs. Weasley," he responded gently.

Molly's eyes began to glisten.

"I have a son named Percival. He…he isn't here," she said, a catch in her voice.

Percival took her hand in his, and covered it.

"Yes…I know. And I am very, very sorry to remind you of that," he said sincerely.

Molly sniffed as Percival continued to hold her hand, trying to comfort her. The Weasley men looked on in approval as the approaching flood of tears receded.

"Well then, won't you please come in, Mr. Hornswallow?" she said, leading him through the doorway.

"Would it be too painful for you to call me Percival, Mrs. Weasley?" he asked her as the men parted, letting them pass through.

She looked up at him.

"No. No, I can do that, Percival," she said, giving him a small sad smile.

"Good," Percival said as everyone streamed in after them.

They entered the rather small cramped kitchen. There was a scrubbed wooden table and chairs in the middle of it, as well as a fireplace. Cookbooks were stacked on the mantelpiece and a clock with one hand stood against the wall. An old radio was softly playing music, Tuned to the WWN. The kitchen used to be the center of activities, but Fred and George had a dining room added on and they could all eat comfortably there.

Molly escorted Percival to the dining room. The table was already laden with an assortment of home-cooked food. The wizard's mouth watered as he looked at the ample spread.

"It all looks and smells delicious, Mrs. Weasley," Percival commented. He meant it too. He never got to eat good home cooked meals like this.

Molly beamed. Nothing put her in a better mood than someone new complimenting her cooking. Molly Weasley was the consummate homemaker. She took great pride in her abilities.

"Thank you, Percival," she said, "Ginny is also an excellent cook."

Ginny rolled her eyes again. Her mother was already starting in on sharing information that she thought would make her daughter more appealing as a wife.

"Mum…" Ginny fairly whined as she took a seat at the table. Percival sat down next to her as everyone grabbed a seat, Arthur taking his place at the head of the table, Molly sitting at the other end.

"All right…before we start our meal, Mr. Hornswallow…" Arthur began.

"Percival," Percival said, "Please, I would like for all of you to call me by my given name."

They all nodded. Not stuffy this one. Ron's eyes were still a bit narrowed as he looked from Ginny to Percival.

"All right, Percival. Before our meal I'd like to introduce you to my family. This is Bill, Ron, Fred and George," he said going down one side of the table, and Molly, as you know," he said then pointing to Charlie, "And Charlie."

Next to Charlie was the empty chair that Percy would have occupied.

"That is where our Percy would be, if he were here," Arthur said soberly.

Molly's eyes began to glisten again as Percival nodded.

"Obviously he is here in your hearts," the wizard commented, looking directly at Molly, "so he is never really far from you."

Molly blinked back her tears and gave Percival a smile.

"No, no he's not Percival," she said softly.

Almost all the Weasley men were impressed. This wizard was quite smooth. Mum hadn't cried yet.

Arthur cleared his throat. "All join hands please," he said.

All around the table, the family joined hands, Percival among them, reaching over the empty chair to take Charlie's rough work-worn hand. Ginny held his other.

"Now please bow your heads for a moment of silence, in thanks for the meal before us, and to give a thought for our loved ones who cannot be with us in body, but are with us in spirit and in love," the wizard said soberly.

Everyone sat quietly for several moments, Percival included. He had never felt such a pure connection between people. His heart went out to the family as they thought of their incarcerated son and brother.

Finally Arthur Weasley said, "Dig in!"

Percival was taken by surprise as dishes clinked and hands reached and bedlam ensued as everyone sought to fill their plates at once.

Fred looked over at the stunned wizard.

"If you want to eat, Percival old boy, get in here," he grinned as he plopped a large amount of mashed potatoes on his plate, then poured gravy over it.

Percival looked at Ginny who was quickly piling her plate. She passed him a bowl of rolls, then a plate of chicken wings.

"Hurry up before Ron gets them," she urged the wizard. Percival looked over at Ron who had a huge amount of food on his plate and was still going at it. The wizard hesitated, then started battling for dishes too, catching hold of a bowl of sweet peas at the same time as George and wresting it away from him with a grin.

"Now you've got it," George said encouragingly as he grabbed for the corn.

Finally the battle was over, and everyone had food, more or less. Percival had been too slow for the pumpkin pie, but Ginny slid half of hers on to his plate. He in turn shared some of his macaroni and cheese with her. Ron had struck before she could get her hands on it.

"How is Shannon doing, Ron?" Molly asked her son. Shannon was Ron's three-year-old daughter. His wife Darlene was home with the child, who was sick with a bad cold and fever. Darlene did not like to use magic on the toddler unless it was absolutely necessary and was taking care of her in the muggle way. She insisted Ron go to Sunday dinner though. Darlene knew how important it was to Molly that her family be together.

"She's getting better, Mum. Personally, I thought she could come, but you know Darlene. If Shannon even sniffles, it's off to bed with her. And I thought you were over-protective," Ron answered around a mouthful of peas.

"Darlene is a good mother," Molly said to Ron. "When it comes to children, better safe than sorry."

Arthur nodded as he bit into a chicken wing.

Percival was enjoying his meal immensely as well as the company. Smacking, grunts of appreciation and finger licking went on all around him as the family tucked in, completely unabashed as they ate and talked.

Arthur looked at Percival.

"So, Percival, what do you do for a living?" he asked the wizard. It was grilling time. Everyone around the table looked at Percival with interest, although they continued eating.

Percival sucked two fingers appreciatively as he finished a chicken wing, took a sip of pumpkin juice, then answered the wizard.

"I am a businessman, Mr. Weasley," he answered. The twins perked up.

"What kind of business, Percival?" Fred asked him.

Ginny was looking nervous.

"I have…varied interests, Fred…George?" he answered.

"George," Fred lied.

"That's Fred," Ginny hissed as both twins grinned.

Ron narrowed his eyes at Percival.

"You're a Lord aren't you?" he asked accusingly.

Ginny's eyes widened as Percival looked at Ron coolly.

"I am titled, yes," he replied shortly, eating some mashed potatoes.

Molly went pale. They had nobility in their house. Self-consciously she patted her hair and shot Ginny an angry glance for not telling her. She would have dressed better and made everyone else do the same.

"Percival," she asked him in an almost frightened voice, "What exactly is your full titled name?"

Percival looked at Ginny, who dropped her head. The dragon was out of the lair now.

"Lord Percival Hornswallow the 2nd," he replied, eating a forkful of peas and dropping a couple.

Eyes widened around the table. They all knew about him. One of the richest, most eligible bachelors in the wizarding world.

"Hot damn! Jackpot!" George exclaimed.

"George!" Ginny yelled at him, horrified as Percival smirked.

"What? You landed a winner," he said, smiling broadly at Percival. "I'm just sharing the joy."

Fred was actually rubbing his hands together, as he wondered how much he could get Percival to invest in the joke shop.

"You stop that," Ginny said agitatedly, "Percival and I are not involved. We are just friends."

Percival looked at Ginny in that instant, and it was clear to everyone at the table that the wizard would like to be much more than friends with the witch.

Fred and George both groaned.

"Oh no, not the 'redheaded little angel' bit again. I swear, Ginny, you run off more rich wizards that way," Fred griped, stabbing a roll with his fork in frustration.

"Yeah, you've got aspiring family members to think about," George said, frowning at his sister.

Ginny turned bright red at these statements.

"Fred and George Weasley…if you think I am going to hop in every rich wizard's bed I meet just so he'll invest in your stupid joke shop, you've got another thought coming! I can't believe you two! I knew I shouldn't have brought Percival here!" she said, pushing her chair out savagely and leaving the table, rushing through the front door and out into the garden.

Fred and George looked at each other.

"What's wrong with her?" they both said in unison.

Percival stared at them in stunned disbelief. He had never met two more outspoken wizards in all his life. What they said was extremely selfish and thoughtless…but still. They were honest chaps, that's for sure…if a bit dense when it came to others' feelings.

Molly growled at them.

"You embarrassed her, that's what's wrong," she snapped. Then she looked at Percival apologetically. "I'm so sorry, my Lord," she said softly, "my sons are idiots."

Both Fred and George scowled at their mother until she turned her eyes back on them. They seemed to shrink to child-size though there was no actual physical change.

"We are going to talk about manners later," she said to them in that tone mothers use when about to do some real earsplitting.

"Yes mum," both wizards said, and returned to eating their food with a lot less gusto. They weren't looking forward to Molly's 'discussion'

Percival dabbed his mouth with his napkin and rose.

"I'll go get Ginny," he said, "If you will excuse me."

The family watched him stride out the door.

"Did you see the look he gave her when she said they were only friends, Dad?" Bill said to his father in a low voice.

Arthur nodded and looked thoughtful.

"He likes her," Molly whispered, "And he's a Lord. A pureblood too."

"He must like her a lot to come have dinner with us," Charlie observed, "Most Lords would never do this. They'd think it was beneath them."

Ron scowled.

"Well I don't like him. He's trying to buy his way into her bed," the wizard said snarkily.

"That would never work with Ginny, Ron. You know how she blows off rich wizards. Poor Percival probably hasn't spent more than a galleon on her, and knowing Ginny, she probably paid him back," Fred said, shaking his head. "Man, I wish I was a witch. I'd be loaded."

Charlie looked at Ron.

"Ron, get over it. Ginny isn't even a virgin," Charlie said, then he realized he had spoken in front of his parents. He didn't even look at them, but concentrated on his peas.

Arthur and Molly scowled at their son as Bill, Fred and George did their best not to bust out in laughter. Ron looked absolutely scandalized.

"I think what Charlie is trying to say Ron," Arthur said diplomatically, "Is that Ginny is old enough to decide who she wants to be involved with, and you have no right to try to interfere."

"But she's my sister," Ron said weakly.

"And our daughter," Arthur said, looking over at his wife, "This is the first wizard she has ever brought home to meet us. Their 'friendship' might be on its way to becoming more, and Ginny, sensible as she is, probably wanted Percival to get a look at us so he would know what he was getting into."

Molly frowned at Fred and George.

"You two might have ruined it all with your greediness," she hissed at them.

Bill looked thoughtful.

"I don't think so, mum. He looked more delighted than anything when the twins said what they did. I don't think the Lord gets to hear the bones of it very often. He might be more comfortable with that, then people hiding what they feel. At least he knows where he stands with these two morons," the spellbreaker said, grinning at Fred and George.

"Hey!" they both exclaimed angrily at him. "Our business will make him loads of money."

"Be that as it may," Arthur said, "You still shouldn't try to get your sister to sleep with every wealthy wizard she comes in contact with just so they'll invest with you. There's a name for wizards that use women like that."

"Yeah," George said grinning, "Rich."

Arthur just shook his head as the twins high-fived each other.

"Well, I want you two on your best behavior for the rest of the evening," he said to Fred and George, scowling slightly. They blanched and nodded.

Arthur Weasley did not give direct orders very often, but when he did, he meant it. They might be grown wizards, but Arthur was still their father, and the head of the clan.

Percival managed to convince Ginny to come back inside. He really was not offended by Fred and George or even Ron. They were just honest in what they said, if not tactful, and Percival had just about had it up to here with tact. He preferred the straight shot. He learned from Ginny that her brothers owned Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. Actually, Percival had been hearing quite a bit about their company and the profits they were garnering. However uncouth Fred and George were, the two obviously knew what they were doing.

Ginny and Percival returned to the table and finished their dinner. The wizard truly enjoyed the company of the family. They were warm and open and argumentive and delightful. He couldn't remember a freer, better meal in all his days.

At the end of the evening, Percival thanked Molly for the best dinner he ever had, and Arthur for accepting him into his household for the evening. He then shook the hands of all her brothers, including Ron who still looked at him suspiciously.

He insisted on apparating back alone, so Ginny could stay and help her mother clean up, and probably talk. Ginny gave him a peck on the cheek, and Fred and George groaned again. Why oh why couldn't they have a looser sister?

Smiling and waving at the family, who all stood in the door to see him off, Percival disapparated.

* * *

Percival lay awake in bed all night thinking about the Weasley family. That would be the kind of closeness he would like to have with his own children. Obviously they had been brought up to be free thinkers, and weren't cowed by their poverty. It seemed to have given them strength in other areas. A truly nice family all in all. He could easily deal with them.

If Ginny had thought to run him off, she had failed miserably. Instead, she had shown him what it was like to have a large, close knit family up close. And he liked it. Very much.

* * *

The next morning, Lord Percival Hornswallow the 2nd arrived at the Ministry, immaculately dressed. He was a major contributor to the campaigns of several board members. He asked to speak to the twelve-member counsel, who immediately convened for a special session with the wizard.

Chairman Figglesworth grinned at the wizard when he strode into the boardroom.

"Ah, Lord Hornswallow, a very rare pleasure to see you. Now what is this matter you wish to speak to the Ministry Board about? As you know, many of us are in your debt in a manner of speaking and you have never asked anything of us as long as you have been contributing. If there is anything we can do for you that is within the realm of law and reason, we will be happy to assist you," Figglesworth said graciously.

Percival pulled off his black leather gloves and walked up to the podium.

"Yes, gentlemen. I do have a request to make of you. Most likely your response will have an effect on whether I will continue to contribute to your campaigns in the future," Percival said evenly.

The Board members murmured among themselves a bit worriedly. Most of them wouldn't have gotten re-elected without Percival's support. In effect, Percival was blackmailing them.

"What do you wish to discuss?" Figglesworth asked, frowning slightly. An election was coming up.

Percival looked at him.

"The release of one Percy Weasley from Azkaban," the wizard replied, his green eyes narrowing.

* * *

Ginny had not heard from Percival in almost a week, which was quite a long time for the wizard. The witch wondered if the wealthy wizard had second thoughts about her family and decided it would be best not to see her anymore. She wouldn't blame him if he had felt that way.

Ginny had been impressed with the sensitivity he'd shown when dealing with his mother concerning Percy, and also how adaptable he was at dinner, diving in and participating with gusto. He really seemed to enjoy himself. It was very hard to believe that the wizard was a Slytherin. Of course, if she had known about the very discreet bodyguards Percival had assigned to both her flat and her person, Ginny would have adjusted her view of the wizard immediately. He was just as sneaky and driven as any other Slytherin graduate.

Finally Sunday rolled around, and Ginny returned to the Burrow for Sunday dinner. It was a bit subdued when Ginny told them how she hadn't heard from Percival all week. Fred and George looked very sullen. They were feeling guilty. It appeared their sister had actually liked the wizard, and their greed and forwardness had driven him off. They tried to apologize.

Ginny looked at her brothers.

Fred, George…you just acted the way you always act. I brought Percival here so he could see my family in their natural habitat," she said.

Both Fred and George raised their eyebrows.

"You make us sound like animals," Fred said.

Ginny laughed.

"No, you are just…well…untamed. There's a difference. We're all just open, down-to-earth people. We just might have been a bit too much for Percival. He's a nice wizard…but he is from a different background. He might as well be from a different world," Ginny said a bit sadly.

Molly looked at her daughter and felt terrible, and a little angry with Percival. If he were going to stop seeing her daughter, he could have told her. She wished she could get hold of him…she'd give him a piece of her mind.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door. All heads turned toward the kitchen. Visitors rarely came to the Burrow.

Arthur stood up.

"I'll get it," he said, heading for the kitchen

Molly rose too, curious.

"I'm coming Arthur," she said, following him.

Presently all the curious Weasleys followed their parents to the front door, Darlene and Shannon remaining behind, the witch trying to get her daughter to eat her peas.

The knock sounded again, and Arthur opened the door. Percival stood there and bowed as Molly's face went black. Percival noticed it immediately.

"Good afternoon Mr. and Mrs. Weasley…Weasley family," he began. He looked over their heads until he saw Ginny who was looking at him evenly, her face unreadable.

"Hello, Ginny," he called to her. The witch walked back into the dining room as Molly moved forward.

"You have some nerve showing up here after not talking to Ginny in a week. If you were going to stop seeing her, Percival, you should have told her. And here I was thinking you were a nice wizard, obviously I …" Molly began, warming up to her browbeating state.

Percival cut her off.

"I was quite busy in negotiations with my lawyers, Mrs. Weasley, from morning until night taking care of some arrangements. But I do have a reason I am here if you will just give me a chance to explain," he said, looking at the witch furtively.

Molly sighed and crossed her arms angrily. None of the Weasley men looked all too happy with him either. Percival thought they might like to beat him up, the way they were looking at him. It was dangerous crossing a witch who had so many brothers. But he hadn't crossed Ginny. He really had been busy.

"Well, Mrs. Weasley…Molly…the reason I'm here is because I know you have a vacant chair at your table…" he began.

Arthur frowned blackly. Surely he wasn't here to try to mooch a meal, in Percy's spot no less. The wizard's fist tightened. If Percival said that was the reason he was here…

"I just thought you'd like to have somebody fill it," he said.

Arthur started to move forward when Percival stepped aside. A tall, thin wizard replaced him. Pale, red-haired with heavy glasses.

Arthur blinked at him.

"Percy?" he asked, his voice threatening to leave him.

"Hi dad," the wizard said, looking at his father. Then…

"Percy?"

It was his mother. She was frozen in place, staring at him.

"Percy is that really you?" she whispered, moving forward as if under the imperious curse.

Percy nodded, his brown eyes filling with tears as he looked down on his mother's beautiful face.

"Yeah, mum. It's me. And I'm so, so sorry," he said softly.

Suddenly Molly let out a scream and flung herself on her son, pulling him down and covering his face in kisses, as the rest of the family stared at him in amazement. Percy's arms locked around his mother as tears streamed down his face.

"Percy! My baby! My baby!" Molly cried hanging on to the wizard as if she would never let him go.

Ginny ran into the kitchen and looked, thinking she couldn't be seeing what she was seeing. It was her brother. It was Percy. The wizard looked up at her, his mother's arms still wrapped around him.

"Hi sis," he said softly. "I think I might have missed your last letter."

Ginny let out a scream and fought through her brothers to get to Percy, wrapping her arms around both her mother and him…kissing him much as Molly did, tears streaming.

He was out of Azkaban. He was home. Home where he belonged with his family who loved him.

"But…but how, Percy? How did you get out? Your last appeal was denied and you couldn't apply for another for six months, she said to the wizard, releasing him.

Arthur tried to pry Molly off her son, but she was molded to him, whispering his name over and over.

"I believe the gentleman who met me at the Ministry today had something to do with it. He was waiting for me when I was released. The guards at Azkaban started treating me very good last Monday, and last night they told me I was to be released in the morning. That someone important had called in one hell of a favor for me and insisted I be out by Sunday morning. Then he took me and bought me new robes and some other things, and brought me here," Percy said.

Ginny looked at him.

"It was Percival, Ginny. Percival brought him here," Molly whispered. "Percival got my boy released. The gods bless him."

Ginny craned her neck to try and see behind the wizard and her mother as they blocked the door.

"Where is he?" she asked.

Percy looked behind him, then shrugged.

"I don't know. He's gone," the wizard replied.

Ginny fell silent.

Arthur managed to get Molly off of his son, then shook his hand.

"Welcome home, son," he said to the wizard soberly.

Percy met his father's eyes, holding his hand tightly.

"Dad, I am so sorry. I was so stupid. I didn't think…I just…" he began.

"Shhh. You're home now, son. You're back with the family who loves you. Come in and have some supper," Arthur said softly.

Percy looked at his father for a moment, then embraced him tightly as Arthur patted his back.

"It's all right, Percy. We love you just as much as we always did. You've still got your old spot at the table," Arthur said, pulling away from him.

One by one, his brothers embraced him. Percy came to Ron last, who scowled at him.

"You're a bloody idiot, you know that Percy?" he seethed at the wizard.

Percy looked at him.

"Yeah, I know, Ron," he replied.

"But I'm glad you're home, you git. Now maybe mum won't wash us away with all the tears she's been shedding over you," Ron said, punching Percy in the arm, then embracing him tighty.

They all moved back into the dining room, in one huddled group.

All except Ginny Weasley, who stood staring out the door, her brown eyes glistening brightly.

Why had Percival left? He was a hero to the Weasley family. He should have stayed to be thanked.

No matter.

She knew where to find him...and exactly how to thank him.

* * *

Lord Hornswallow was sitting in his parlor in front of the fireplace, sipping on a cognac, and looking quite irritated. He had watched the tearful reunion of the Weasleys and left when he saw Ginny embrace her brother. It was a family moment, not to be marred by him. The look in Molly Weasley's eyes when she saw her son was worth more galleons than he would ever acquire. He had done a good thing.

But of course, Percival was a Slytherin, and a part of him hoped that Ginny Weasley would be exceedingly grateful to him. His heart was in the right place when he forced the Board to release her brother, but to say other parts of him weren't involved would be a stretch. He desired Ginny after all, and true to his creed, saw no reason not to use his power and influence to sway the witch his way. If gratitude was what brought the witch to his arms, then he would settle for that. Given the chance to make love to the witch, maybe he could persuade her to stay in his arms forever

And that was what he wanted to do to Ginny Weasley. Make love to her. Use every skill he had acquired as a lover to bring her to someplace she'd never been. This was not a situation of mere sexual gratification. He could get that anytime in any place for the price of dinner and a drink, if that. Sometime his name was enough to make a witch drop her knickers. No. He wanted to connect with Ginny Weasley…and if possible, to make her love him. Percival believed he was in love with her. She was in his thoughts constantly. Oh, how happy she looked tonight when she saw her brother.

Percival would be quite happy to sit and idly relive the reunion over and over in his mind except for one problem.

Sylvia Covington.

A silky, sexy, slinking spelled-blonde, magically enhanced-breasted socialite witch who just could not understand he was not interested in shagging her at this point in time. They had several trysts over the past several months, but Percival was quite aware he wasn't the only wizard riding that particular train. When he had returned home, he found Sylvia lounging in his parlor, drinking his best champagne like water, waiting for him. She had bullied her way past the servants, browbeating and threatening them until they let her pass. After all, she had been with the Lord before.

Sylvia was determined to find out what was going on with Percival. On the gold-digging scene, the witches kept up with who was sleeping with what wizard, and Sylvia found that Percival had been completely out of the loop for several months as far as sex went. He was sleeping with no one she knew and that boded no good. The wizard was still dating on occasion, but sending witches home at an alarming rate, saying he wasn't interested in intimacy with them and was only interested in company.

Something was going on with the wizard. Sylvia suspected he was in love with some unknown witch, and if he was, someone needed to throw a wand into the works. Sylvia was just the witch to do it.

She rested against the fireplace, striking sexy poses and pouting at the wizard as he ignored her. He had asked her to go home several times but all Sylvia would say was a variation of the following:

"Percival, you know you don't mean that dearest. I've been asking around and I know you haven't gotten your wand wet in ages. Now be a good boy and come to Sylvie."

Percival ran his hand over his face, then peeked between his fingers to see if the witch was still there. She was. At least she knew better than to approach him without his permission. There was a kind of sexual etiquette that operated between nobility. Desire for contact had to be specifically expressed. To overstep those boundaries was unthinkable for the elite. Everything had a rule or a code of conduct that applied specifically to the wealthy.

Percival was wondering how he was going to get rid of Sylvia without bodily throwing her out and causing a scene. Sylvia was a drama queen of the worst sort and had quite an ugly, jealous personality beneath all her apparent beauty. If he threw her out, he could be sure it would be in the Prophet's society page tomorrow.

Percival was looking at Sylvie with a small frown on his face, when a house elf winked in.

"Good evening, Master," the elf said pleasantly, bowing to Percival before sending a small, disapproving glance in Sylvie's direction.

"Good evening, Slapfoot," Percival replied. "Is there a reason you are here?"

The elf bowed again.

"Yes sir. There is a Ginny Weasley at the main gate, asking to see you sir," the elf replied.

All of Percival's house elves spoke with perfect diction. They were initially taught it years ago by his mother, and then passed on by the elves themselves.

Percival sat straight up. Ginny? At his Manor? The witch would never come to his manor before. Excited, the wizard stood up and straightened his robes, running his hand through his hair.

Sylvia looked at the wizard with narrowed eyes. She had never seen him lose his cool at the mere mention of a woman. This much be the bitch occupying his time.

"So, is this Ginny Weasley someone I should know?" the witch asked, "She certainly seems to snap your springs, Percival."

Percival looked at the witch coldly.

"Go home, Slyvie," he said with irritation in his voice. "I have company coming and want some privacy. Now leave my manor."

Now Percival spoke with command in his voice. This was no request. This was a dismissal by the Lord of the Manor. Sylvia had no choice but to go.

"Fine," she spat. "I'll go then. But I don't understand you, Percival. No one knows this witch you are all smarmy about. Which probably means you are slumming. Slumming is fine for a little fun, Percival. Even I put on a glamour and hit the pubs when I'm in the mood for a little lowbrow sex…but you need to move in your own social strata, Percival. Find someone suitable from among your own," Sylvia said, frowning at him.

Percival was tired of the witch.

"Someone like you, Sylvie?" he asked her as he walked toward the main doors. The blonde witch slunk behind him, purposely walking slow.

"Yes. I'm a good match for you," she responded. "I know your circles. I've been bred to be the wife of a wealthy man."

"Sylvie, almost every wizard I know can describe your snatch right down to the last pubic hair. Do you really think I want you for a wife? Or any of these bed-hopping bitches? I can count the strokes until you climax, you're so fucking predictable. You verbally rip and tear every witch you associate with, then join them for tea. You want trinkets that cost a working man two years salary to buy, and for what? To wear once, just to show a wizard spent galleons on you." I'm sick of it. Of all of it, Sylvie. The falseness, the pretense, the coldness. I am in the market for someone real. A real wife, Sylvie…not what you've been bred to be. Now leave my Manor," he said pulling the main door open.

Ginny was standing there. She was dressed in blue jeans, a blue cotton shirt, her red hair a tangle all over her head. She didn't wear a lick of makeup and her nails weren't done. To Percival, she looked beautiful as her eyes met his, glistening unnaturally.

"Ginny," he said hoarsely.

"Hello Percival. I…I wanted to talk to you," she said.

Ginny's eyes shifted to the flawless blonde standing behind him. The witch was scowling at her as if she had interrupted something.

"But if you are busy…" she said, beginning to back away.

Percival quickly stepped over the threshold and caught Ginny gently by her arm, pulling her through the door.

"No, I'm not busy at all. Sylvie was just leaving," he said, looking at the blonde witch, his green eyes flashing a warning at her.

"Yes, I am leaving," Sylvie said, walking past Percival and dragging her hand across his cheek. "Goodbye, lover," the witch purred. You were wonderful."

Sylvie walked over the threshold, bumping into Ginny as she did so.

"I guess you're into sloppy seconds, dear," she hissed, strolling out the door.

Fuming, Percival slammed the door behind her.

Ginny looked at him, uncertainty in her eyes now.

"A friend of yours?" Ginny asked as Percival took her arm and walked back with her to his parlor.

The wizard walked over to a shelf and took down a small bowl, then took out his wand and pulled several silver strands from his head and put them inside.

"A pensieve?" Ginny asked.

"Over the years I've found myself in seemingly compromising situations that were difficult to explain. Now, when it happens, I find it more expedient to share the actual experience. It explains everything immediately. If I were to tell you that the witch that just left here meant nothing to me, and that we had done nothing, and I wanted nothing to do with her, you would have some doubt in your mind as to whether or not I was speaking the truth, Ginny, particularly since I've expressed an interest in you."

He offered her the pensieve, but stopped her before she stuck her finger in.

"You are going to hear me address Sylvie in a less than gentlemanly manner. Sometimes harshness is required when reason is not enough. I want you to keep that in mind, and really pay attention to what she says about me and implies about you. Then you will see why I was so angry," he said softly. "The witch meant for you to think I had just indulged myself with her, when I haven't touched a witch in months, with the exception of that delicious kiss we shared. I don't seem to want them anymore…not even for gratification. I need…I want something more now…" he said, his voice trailing off as he swallowed, looking at the witch.

Ginny stuck her hand in the pensieve and viewed what Percival experienced from the time he arrived home up until the time Sylvie left. Luckily time in the pensieve passed much quicker than real time. It only took Ginny five minutes to view everything. She handed the pensieve back to him. Percival tapped it with his wand, emptying the memories and returned the pensieve to the shelf.

"Sylvie is a piece of work, isn't she?" Ginny asked him in a low voice.

"Sylvie is just one in a long line of Sylvies. Different hair coloring, body types and nail polish, but it seems like all witches are the same witch in this world, Ginny," Percival sighed. Then he gestured towards the sofa.

"Will you have a seat?" he asked her.

Ginny walked over to the sofa and sat down. Percival joined her.

"What do you want to talk to me about?" the wizard asked her, his eyes flicking over the witch. He couldn't believe she was in his Manor. She had not oohed or ahhed about anything. It was as if she was unaware of the opulence. She just didn't care about it.

Ginny looked at him, a little scowl on her face.

"Percival, don't act like you don't know. About Percy. How did you get him out?" she asked him.

"I have a few friends on the Ministry board. I just made a request," the wizard replied.

Ginny frowned at him.

"You made more than a request, Percival. You had his records expunged. He has his job at the Ministry back. It's as if he had never joined the Dark Lord," she said.

Percival sat forward on the couch.

"Ginny, I was made privy to pensieve of your brother's interrogation under veritaserum. He took the Mark, but he was never loyal to Voldemort. After the atrocities he witnessed, and went through…all he wanted to do was leave his service. But they would have killed him. Your brother made a mistake. He didn't deserve life in Azkaban. He paid for his mistake while with the Dark Lord, believe me," Percival said.

Percival wasn't about to tell Ginny that he witnessed the Dark Lord bugger Percy on several occasions, and that the pleasure was not mutual. The young wizard suffered terribly.

Ginny looked at the wizard.

"But why, why did you do this, Percival? You owed my family nothing," Ginny said.

"I did it because I could do it, Ginny. Power and influence has its purposes, and it isn't all bad. I saw how your family missed him, kept a place for him, kept him in their prayers, kept fighting for appeals. I saw your mother's pain, I saw yours when you told me about him. I could do something and it cost me next to nothing to do it. And I got a great reward when I saw your brother reunited with his family. It was beautiful and I brought joy to a few people," he said sincerely.

"You didn't do it because you thought I would be 'grateful' Percival?" Ginny asked him, her brown eyes fixed on his face, looking for the slightest sign of dishonesty.

Percival's green eyes met her brown ones. Gods, he couldn't lie…she would see right through him. Ginny had no truck with liars.

He sighed

"Ginny that wasn't the whole of my reason for helping your brother, but I can't sit here and tell you that a part of me didn't hope that you would throw yourself into my arms as a reward. If I weren't attracted to you so strongly, I wouldn't have helped your brother at all. I am a Slytherin, Ginny. Not as dark as many, but just as selfish, and just as devious. I will do anything to reach a desired end. I want you for my wife. I would release an army of Percys to have you," he said, "Though I imagine my confession has in all probability killed any chance of my having you give yourself to me out of gratitude."

Ginny looked thoughtful.

"Let me ask you something, Percival. Do you think I owe you something for releasing Percival? For making my mother happy? For reuniting my family?" she asked the wizard softly.

Percival thought about this.

"In my perfectly selfish little world, Ginny, you would feel that you did. You would ease my torment and give in to me. You would let me make love to you, and agree to become my wife and bear my children and make me a happy man, in that order because I saved your brother from a life of imprisonment. In my perfect, selfish little world, Ginny Weasley, you would love me because of what I've done for you and yours if not for myself, though I desperately wish you would love me for myself."

Percival blinked his eyes rather rapidly for a moment. He wasn't used to expressing such emotion. It felt like he was slicing himself open and showing the witch the raw core of his heart. It was quite affecting simply because it probably wouldn't make a difference at all. The wizard continued.

" In actuality, you owe me nothing. Well…possibly a 'thank you,' if you are so inclined for politeness' sake. The fact is you did not ask me to retrieve your brother. You had no knowledge that I could do such a thing. I did it on my own. So there is no obligation on your part to reward me at all," he said, slumping a bit.

Ginny looked at Percival closely. He was one of the most powerful, influential and sought after wizards in the wizarding world. He was handsome, intelligent and adventurous. He was kind, but manipulative, still a Slytherin in principles. Witches wet their knickers at the mention of his name, and poured through his bed like water. There was nothing he couldn't afford, nothing he couldn't buy…but happiness.

Percival wanted a real life. He wanted stability, faithfulness and love. He wanted a wife and family to treasure. He wanted her to love him for him. Ginny thought about this and mentally separated Percival from his wealth and power. From his influence. The witch realized that if he had been an ordinary working wizard, they would probably be lovers by now, if not engaged. He was a loveable wizard beneath all the glitz that accompanied his wealth and name. He was painfully honest too. He put it all out straight, even when it was to his detriment.

He wanted her to be grateful, and she was. He wanted her to love him…and Ginny believed she did. He wanted to make love to her, and the witch could still feel the hunger his kiss woke inside her. But if she did this with the wizard she wanted him to know that it wasn't just because of Percy, though that did play a part.

Percival was sitting next to her, staring at the fire. He had poured his heart out to the witch, and she hadn't responded. The wizard was at a loss at what to do now. He was invested. More than likely, Ginny Weasley would break his heart. He had been initially attracted to Hermione, but he hadn't come to know the witch, not like he knew Ginny. He had come to know the witch as a person, a friend and a companion. He valued her greatly. The single kiss they shared held so much more promise…a promise he wished she would let them explore.

"Percival?" Ginny said to the wizard.

"Yes?" he replied, sounding somewhat sullen.

"Remember when I said I was strongly attracted to you? I still am. But it's become worse. Seeing you with my family and getting along so well with them made me more hopeful…and you bringing Percy home to us has made the attraction even more powerful," she said.

Percival turned toward her now, listening intently.

The witch's voice dropped low.

"Do you know why I came to your Manor tonight, Percival?" Ginny asked.

"I presume to thank me," he said, "until Sylvie did her little song and dance."

"In a manner of speaking, I did come to thank you. But the way I thought you'd want me to thank you," she said, her eyes meeting his with a bit of heat now.

Percival looked at her as if he didn't understand. He did, but he wanted her to clearly state it.

"I came here," Ginny said, "To finish finding out just how compatible we are, Percival. I'm ready to deal with wizards again…and currently you are the only one on the list."

Percival smiled at her.

"So, in other words I have the advantage, Ginny?" he asked her, his voice a low rumble.

She nodded.

Percival looked thoughtful.

"When you say 'how compatible' to you mean 'basic compatibility' or 'full compatibility?'

Ginny looked at him. She was not a shy witch at all.

"I mean full compatibility, Percival. Where's your bedroom?" Ginny asked him.

The wizard forced himself to maintain control. Gods, did she mean this?

"I have very many bedrooms," he replied, smiling broadly at her, but not yet sure if he should touch her.

"Fine. Where's your closest bedroom then?" the witch amended.

Percival rose and took her hand. This time Ginny let him kiss it. He helped her to her feet.

"Right this way," Percival said, hoping at least his voice sounded calm as he looped his arm in Ginny's arm and escorted her out of the parlor and into the depths of the manor…because his heart was beating a thousand times a minute.

* * *

Ginny Weasley was very aware of the wizard striding next to her, holding her arm rather possessively. Percival didn't look at her as they walked but she could see him swallow nervously. The witch smiled a bit. Knowing that he was anxious made him even more appealing to her.

They walked up a long flight of stairs to the second floor in silence. To Percival, it sounded like a steady drum beat accompanied them, because his blood was pounding in his ears. The wizard wanted to say something to her before they arrived at the bedroom. Something sweet and romantic, but his mouth felt dry and no words would come. He cleared his throat.

Ginny looked at him.

"Percival, you seem nervous," she said softly. "You shouldn't be. I'm a witch like any other witch."

He looked at her, his eyes hardening slightly. She was not like any other witch.

"No," he said hoarsely, "Ginny Weasley you are like no other witch I've ever met. You have depth, character and heart. You have opinions…you have boundaries."

He lowered his voice and stopped, taking both her hands in his, his eyes softening.

"I am very glad and very honored that you are lowering those boundaries for me, Ginny," he said, staring into her face soberly. "That you are giving me a chance to show you how I feel about you."

Percival still couldn't believe Ginny was here, and that the challenging, beautiful, maddening witch was willing to share his bed and her body with him. He knew she had to feel something for him, something special. It was about more than Percy's release. She wouldn't sell herself short, even for that. There was something in her heart for him, Percival was sure. And he intended to latch on that something inside her when he made love to her, and hopefully draw it out and make it swell until it covered her, and she would not deny him his other hopes concerning her.

Yes, Percival Hornswallow wanted Ginny Weasley, but this was not an obsession that one night of passion would extinguish. He was hoping this night would lead to many, many nights, a lifetime of nights. He wanted her to consent to be his wife. That was what their lovemaking would be about as far as the wizard was concerned.

Suddenly Percival's heart seemed to swell and he pulled Ginny against him, pressing his mouth to hers, thrilled there was no resistance or hesitance as their lips met with equal hunger and the witch molded her soft body against his.

Gods, Percival's mouth was sweet, and Ginny slipped her tongue between his lips, wrapping her arms around the wizard's neck and letting the fire she felt racing up and down her frame transfer to him through her kiss. She trembled as her need roared into full flame.

The wizard seemed to pause, feeling her quake against him. Dear Merlin, this was real. Her desire for him was real. Percival crushed her to him, deepening his kiss, feeling himself hardening against her hips, his hands moving through her thick red hair. Ginny felt him growing against her leg and a gush flowed through her. She gasped into Percival's mouth, her hands rising to lock in his hair. Shit, she was so turned on.

The wizard pulled back from her, looking into her face.

"Damn," he breathed as he saw the heat and longing in her brown eyes.

He needed to find a bed. Now.

Percival swept Ginny up into his arms and swiftly headed down the corridor with her. Ginny was no small witch, but Percival carried her easily, his eyes shifting from her face to the passing doorways. Finally he stopped in front of one. He turned the handle but the door didn't open. He scowled. None of these doors were supposed to be locked. He pulled out his wand.

"Alohamora," he hissed.

The door still didn't unlock.

Percival started to let out a string of obscenities, but caught himself. He was in the presence of a witch, and he didn't want to seem as if he was losing control.

Ginny smirked at him. She knew he had been about to curse in frustration.

"Perhaps another bedroom, Percival?" she asked him.

"No, I want you in this one," he said darkly, glaring at the door.

This bedroom had a round bed in it. He had never used it before. He wanted to take Ginny in a bed he had never shared with another witch.

Ginny pulled out her wand from her back pocket.

"Let me try," she said.

Percival stepped back a little.

Ginny pointed her wand at the knob.

"Alohamora," she said, and the door clicked, then opened.

Percival looked at him, his eyebrows raised.

"I think you just weren't really focused on the spell, Percival," she said softly, "obviously your intent was focused elsewhere."

The wizard's eyes swept over her with such desire that Ginny felt as if they were emitted heat she could feel wash over her.

"I think you may be right," Percival said, sweeping her into his arms again and kicking the door open, then entering and pushing it closed with his foot. He looked at the witch in his arms.

"Would you do the honors? I'm sure my 'intent' hasn't unfocused," he grinned at her. Ginny used the wand to lock and ward the door.

Percival looked at her.

"Add a silencing charm, Ginny," he said softly, "Just in case."

Percival didn't know how Ginny responded to sex, but the witches he had all made a lot of noise. It was as if it were required, rather than the result of the act itself. It seemed as if they all thought the more noise they made the better it was supposed to be.

Percival looked at Ginny. He knew she was passionate…simply because of his interactions with her. But he was quite sure that if she shrieked during sex, it would be because she felt it, and not to try to make him feel as if he were a sex god as the socialites did.

However, Ginny wasn't a screamer…she was a whisperer. The kind of witch that responded to a lover's ministrations with gasps, soft cries of pleasure and passionate words. This could be because her earliest experiences with sex required her to be quiet to avoid discovery. However it came about, this was how the witch was.

Percival stood Ginny up in the center of the room and raised the torches slightly, so the light resembled candlelight. The room was very nice, and featured a huge, circular bed, covered in white satin sheets.

Ginny studied the bed for a moment, then looked at the wizard, whose eyes hadn't moved from her.

"A round bed?" she asked him

Percival shrugged.

"No sharp corners," he replied with a slight smile. It faded as their eyes met.

"I've never been in this bed before, Ginny. No one has," he said softly. "We'll be the first. I don't want to make love to you for the first time in a bed that isn't pristine."

Ginny looked at him.

"I'm sure you know Percival, this isn't my first time being with a wizard," Ginny said to him.

"That doesn't matter, Ginny. It's your first time being with me. And I'm hoping that after tonight, it won't be your last time," Percival said, stepping nearer to her, and lifting her chin. "I'm hoping after tonight, you'll want to stay with me…that you'll agree to be my wife. So I have a lot riding on you…"

Ginny burst into laughter at his unintentional pun. Percival let go of her chin and looked confused. Why was she laughing at him?

"A lot riding on me, Percival? Considering our situation…" the witch began.

Percival chuckled, looking relieved. He had thought perhaps she found the idea of becoming his wife ludicrous.

"Not the best choice of words," he said, looking down at her. They both stopped laughing.

"You were very patient, Percival," Ginny said.

"That's because the best things in life, Ginny Weasley, are worth waiting for," the wizard replied, drawing her into his arms again, "but I think I've waited long enough to show you how compatible I believe we truly are."

Percival kissed the witch again, with even more hunger this time, pulling her into his body, his hands on her waist. Kissing Ginny Weasley was so satisfying, but made him want more. This was not a practiced kiss, prelude to practiced sex. Percival wanted her lips, her mouth, to taste her heat, and above all to feel her respond to him driven by need. The wizard broke from her mouth, and moved to her throat, kissing and sucking it gently as Ginny threw her head back with a sigh. Experimentally, Percival licked her skin, and the witch let out a little gasp of pleasure.

Ginny's hands moved over the wizard's back under his robes. He was lean, and she could feel his muscles moving underneath the fabric.

"I want to feel your skin, Percival," she whispered to him, "Take off your robes."

Percival raised his head from her throat and looked at Ginny.

"You have no trouble asking for what you want, do you Ginny?" he asked her, his eyes smoldering.

"No, I don't Percival," she replied. "You never get want you want if you don't ask."

"Undress then," he said intensely. But he wasn't asking.

The couple stepped back from each other and began to unfasten their clothing.

Aware of Percival's eyes on her, Ginny slowly and sexily pulled her shirt out of her jeans and began unbuttoning it, pulling it slightly apart as she did so. Percy saw she had a few freckles on other parts of her body, and wanted to press his lips to each and every one as the witch revealed more and more of her body.

She pulled her shirt open, and the wizard saw she wore a simple, comfortable cotton bra. Ginny had medium-sized breasts, which was fine with Percival. Most socialites had very large, magically enhanced-breasts. Ginny was all natural.

It was the first time he'd seen a woman in an undergarment that wasn't lacy and silky, designed to arouse the male libido. And it turned him on more than any piece of lingerie he'd ever seen, because it showed him the witch was coming to him as she was. There were no bells and whistles, no pretty packaging. What he saw was what he would have. He stopped unbuttoning his robes as he looked at her bra.

Ginny frowned at the wizard and looked down at her bra.

"Is something wrong, Percival?" she asked the wizard.

"No. Everything is perfect," he breathed, beginning to work on his robes again, faster as she removed her shirt.

The witch was slender, her belly flat, her waist small. She began to unbuckle her belt. There was a Gryffindor lioness on it. Percival opened his robes, revealing a white dress shirt and black pants with a belt that had the Serpent of Slytherin as a buckle.

They looked at each other's belts and smiled.

"Gryffindor and Slytherin are old adversaries," Percival said as he removed his robes and placed them on a chair. Then took Ginny's shirt and laid it there as well.

"Are you saying we are going to war, Percival?" Ginny asked him, pulling her belt out of the loops of her jeans and slapping it into her hand.

The wizard shook his head.

"Oh no, Ginny. No wars here. When I tangle with you Lioness…my coils will not be trying to crush you…they'll be caressing you in the hopes you'll purr for me."

His shirt was open now, revealing a well-muscled chest. He slipped it off his broad shoulders. Percival was very well defined. A beautiful specimen of a man. Ginny's eyes raked over his torso with approval.

Percival watched as the witch sat down and removed her white trainers and socks. He doubted any woman had ever worn trainers in his mansion, much less jeans. The witch stood up and slid her jeans down over her thighs. Her knickers matched her bra. Simple, white and comfortable. Percival fought back a hiss as Ginny remove her jeans completely. She had slim hips and long, slender, shapely legs, slightly muscular. Her feet were large but pretty. The toes were devoid of polish but well clipped. She stood before him in her undergarments.

"You are beautiful," Percival said, a bit of a groan in his voice as he toed off his boots and socks, kicking them away.

"I'm sure you've seen fancier lingerie than this," Ginny said.

"Fancier, perhaps, but nothing as sexy," the wizard replied sincerely.

Ginny watched as the wizard slid his trousers down. He wore white silk boxers. They were tented. He stepped out of his trousers and picked up Ginny's jeans and placed them on the chair as well. Then they stood looking at each other.

"You're very handsome, Percival," Ginny said appreciatively. The wizard looked like a model from some muggle magazine. He smiled, his dimple appearing.

"I'm glad you approve," he said, his eyes raking over her. He looked down at his tented boxers then up at the witch. "My feelings toward you are … er …quite obvious I believe."

Ginny looked down at his hidden erection.

"Quite," she agreed.

She wondered if Percival's tool was as good-looking as the rest of him, while Percival wondered if her pubic hair would be as bright as the hair on her head. He had no doubt she was a natural redhead, based on her family.

They stared at each other. Percival had never experienced such a sense of awkwardness with a witch before. Normally he'd strip down completely and just start shagging. But this was Ginny. Ginny was a completely different story. Someone had to make the first move.

"Would you like to get in the bed?" he asked her.

"I think that is the next logical step," Ginny replied.

Percival gave her a small grin, took her hand and led her to the bed, helping her in. He climbed in behind her and watched as she lay against the pillows, her slender body stretched out before him. His eyes washed over her, then suddenly, the wizard rolled on top of her, kissing her passionately, his hands sliding over her warm, soft skin, his body moving against her sensuously,

Percival had surprised Ginny with his ardent attack, but the minute she felt his hard body on top of hers, and his tongue slip into her mouth, the witch was ignited. Her hands explored the muscles of his back, buttocks and legs, caressed and grasping as they rippled beneath her fingers. Percival rhythmically pressed himself against her, then managed to get between her thighs and rub himself against her crotch lustfully, but not roughly. The feel of him between her legs made Ginny soak her knickers and she moaned into his mouth with pleasure and need.

Percival began to slide down her body, kissing her neck and shoulders, his hands petting and caressing her sides, hips and thighs. He moved to her bra-encased breasts and without hesitation pulled her bra up, releasing them. They were firm and pink-tipped. Percival kissed both of them softly, his hands encircling them lightly, feeling their fullness. Then he suckled the witch, and Ginny groaned, her hands moving over his head and shoulders, her pelvis thrusting upward reflexively as she went into overdrive. Ginny wasn't a patient witch when it came to sex.

Percival felt her grinding against him, and realized that she was anxious for him. Wanting to make sure, he asked her.

"Ginny…Ginny do you want me now?" Percival asked her softly, working his body against hers.

"I'm…I'm not patient, Percival…at least not at first," she whispered up at him, her brown eyes liquid with need.

"You don't have to wait…we don't have to wait," he breathed.

Percival unfastened Ginny's bra and dropped it off the side of the bed, then rose to his knees and caught hold of her knickers. Ginny lifted her hips so he could remove them. Percival looked down on her bright red bush and groaned.

"Now that's pretty," he said, looking up at the witch.

"Your boxers, Percival," Ginny said softly. "Take them off."

Percival felt himself throb at the note of need in the witch's voice. Her passion was real. He lowered his boxers and slipped them over his knees and down his legs. He dropped them off the bed as well. He let Ginny get a good look at him.

Percival's member was just as good looking as the rest of him. It also curved slightly to the left, rising from a tangle of soft, brown pubic hair.

"Just as I thought, Percival. It's just as handsome as you are," she said, looking up at him. "I kind of like that curve. It looks promising."

"Oh, it is," Percival said, lowering himself back on the witch and kissing her lightly. He never talked before sex either, nor had any witch commented on his tool unless to cry out the customary …"oh Percival…it's soooo big!" as he shagged her. The witches really needed to work on getting some different lines.

"I call it my 'lover's curve' he said to her, adjusting himself so he rested against Ginny's core. Gods the witch was so hot and wet.

Percival shuddered in anticipation as Ginny looked up at him.

"Are you ready for me, Ginny?" Percival asked her hoarsely, his brow furrowed, his hips thrusting against her reflexively.

His erection slipped between her folds and pressed hard against her opening. Ginny's hips thrust upward lightly, the witch letting out a low squeal, her eyes blazing now as she looked up at the wizard, trying to catch her breath to speak.

"Because the gods know I am ready for you," the wizard groaned, staring down at her as if he could swallow her whole.

Ginny was bucking up against Percival aggressively now.

"Yes, Percival. Do it," she breathed. "Gods, I'm burning up."

Shuddering, Percival shifted again then entered the witch, gasping as he buried himself into Ginny's slick, gripping heat.

He heard the witch whisper "Yessss," as her body welcomed him and his belly tightened as he felt something like a bolt of energy race up his spine. Ginny buckled beneath him suddenly, feeling the connection race through her body as well.

"Oh yes, Ginny" he whispered back passionately, looking down at her face, grimacing from the pleasure of being inside the witch.

"Yes, baby. I can feel it and I know you feel it too. I've finally found you, wife. You're not leaving here until you accept me, Ginny Weasley," he said softly.

In response, Ginny wrapped her long legs around the wizard's waist tightly, drawing him deeper.

"Convince me, then, Percival," she whispered, her eyes soft.

His heart full of longing, the wizard went to work.

Percival wrapped his arms around the witch and kissed her passionately as he moved within her, tenderly kissing her temples, her forehead, her eyelids, her cheeks, before falling to her lips and possessing them hungrily, seeking out her tongue and tasting every part of her mouth he could reach. The wizard desperately wanted Ginny to know this meant more to him than just sex.

Percival had a way of making love that Ginny had never experienced with a wizard, his stroke was rather circular, his hips rotating strongly as he penetrated her, then twisting his pelvis right and left when he hit bottom, caressing and stretching every part of her, while stimulating her, making the best use of his curvature. Ginny tightened her legs around him, lost to the sweetness of the wizard's passionate possession.

The wizard didn't jerk her body, he rocked it back and forth, side to side rhythmically, moving fluidly, groaning with pleasure as he slid in and out of her, lost to her softness and her acceptance of him. Percival fell to Ginny throat and breasts, kissing, suckling and licking the witch as he possessed her, his green eyes burning with passion as she strained against him, listening to her soft cries and hisses, concentrating on how her voice changed with his movements and what motion seemed to please her most. He couldn't remember any witch sounding more beautiful when he took her than Ginny.

Percival loved the witch's muted responses. They egged him on more than any piercing cry ever could. Whatever sound she made, there was reason for it. And he gave her reason after reason as he bore into her body, claiming every part of her tenderly, hungrily, his mouth moving across her skin. She smelled crisp, clean, of nothing but a lightly floral-scented soap. No heavy, cloying expensive perfumes to burn his nose, hide her scent or sting his tongue. She smelled and tasted like a witch should smell and taste. Real. She was starting to perspire now, and he could taste the salt of her sweat flavoring her, stimulating him more. He slid back to her throat, pressing his lips to her ear.

"You are making me mad, Ginny Weasley," he whispered to her. "Not only your body, but everything about you. You have to be mine…for always. I want to do this to you always. Say you'll marry me, and bear my children, give me a family as wonderful and close as your own, and I will give anything, do anything for you. Please, Ginny. Please love me."

Overcome with emotion, Percival began to drive into the witch, lifting himself on his arms and burying himself deeper and harder inside her, still with that delicious motion that drove the witch wild. He stared down at her, watching her as she groaned, her brown eyes flying open, full of passion, locking on him, her mouth slackening as he brought her close.

"I see you rising, Ginny Weasley," he breathed as sweat dripped off of his thrusting, rotating body, his hips swiveling as he rode her strongly, working her body, gazing down and watching his length bury itself in that beautiful red bush, pressing his pelvis against her and whirling.

"My gods, Percival," the witch whispered as she began to shudder, a guttural moan of pleasure flowing from her lips as she came, her legs loosening as bliss washed over her, Percival hissing as she clamped down on him, bathing him in her liquid heat.

"You sweet beautiful witch," he groaned, riding out her orgasm and watching her face contort with pleasure as she hit the pinnacle, "I can never go back now that I've experienced you. You've ruined me, Ginny. I'll never find satisfaction beyond you now. Never."

Percival kissed her passionately again, before pulling out of her and falling to the side, positioning himself behind her and rolling the still orgasming witch to the side. He pressed close to her, lifting up her leg and entering her from behind, slipping one hand around her waist to caress her breasts as he continued, kissing her neck and shoulders. Now he had more of a straight stroke, thrusting into her faster and faster as she tried to come down, lifting her back up. The wizard began to work her leg back and forth, lowering it to tighten her grip, raising it to stroke her deeper, tweaking and fondling first one breast then the other.

Ginny began to tremble again and he started stroking her harder as he felt her pulsing around him increase.

"Percival," she called his name brokenly, but in a hungry way that let him know she wanted him to answer her.

"Yes, Ginny?" he groaned at her, pistoning into her body now, working the curve of his member for all he was worth. He pressed his lips between her shoulder blades, planting small kisses on her back.

"You really can fuck," Ginny gasped as she flipped over the edge again, her eyes rolling up into her head.

Percival smiled against her skin as he felt the witch gush over him, letting out a low hoarse cry as she did so. He tightened his arm around her waist for a moment, and again, rode out her climax, biting his lip as he fought back the urge to release with her. He stopped for a moment, unable to move. If he did, he would explode. Ginny was contracting around him, squeezing him so tightly, Percival thought his balls might pop off. With a gasp he pulled out of the witch and clutched the head of his member tightly, willing the urge to come to go away.

"Percival?" Ginny gasped, feeling him leave her. He kissed her throat.

"I'm here. I'm right here," he said, fairly sighing with relief as the sensation passed.

The wizard rose to his knees and gently urged Ginny to rise to all fours.

He moved behind her and grasped her waist, slamming into the witch with some power and rolling his hips strongly, making her let out a choked gasp.

"Oh gods," Percival groaned as he looked down at his penetration of her body, his erection sliding her soft, plump cheeks, glistening, streaks of her creamy come visible.

He caressed her lovingly, then slid his hands back to her waist, pulling the witch into his stroke, which had returned to the circular motion, his loins winding round and round against her buttocks. Ginny let out a soft string of almost unintelligible words, but the wizard did catch a couple of obscenities, which made him work her body harder and rougher, but not brutally.

"So…fucking…beautiful," he gasped, slamming and lifting, rolling and plunging into Ginny. She was so wet from coming that he could hear his stroke squishing and sucking through her sleeve. She was tight and slippery and felt so damn good.

This was it, he couldn't hold back any longer.

Percival bent over Ginny and possessively wrapped one arm around her waist and the other around her throat as he hunched into her uncontrollably, his eyes rolling up in his head, sweat rolling off his back.

"Shit! Percival," Ginny gasped, then she was gone again, her forearms dropping and her head hitting the pillows, Percival unwrapping his arm from around her neck and catching himself just in time, not missing a single, gyrating stroke. He corkscrewed into the orgasming witch, drawing up, his neck tightening, veins popping out from his efforts.

"Arrrrrrgh! Ginny!" he groaned, gasping the witch's name as his release ripped through him.

Percival slammed into Ginny, flooding her body with his seed, hoping she didn't have a contraceptive patch on as he spilled inside her, shuddering as he pressed his lips against her ear and once again begged her to say yes to him, passion dripping from his lips.

"Marry me, Ginny Weasley, you stubborn witch you," he demanded as he pulsed inside her, his warm breath flitting across her ear as he panted, "No wizard will ever love you more or make you happier than I will."

Ginny heard his words as if from a great distance…she was coming down from her third orgasm. The witch had never had three in a single encounter before. Percival could make her have multiple orgasms. Gods, she loved the way he shagged. She loved everything about the wizard except his position in society.

Still dazed, she felt Percival's pulsing slow, then his release end. His lips were moving all over her back and shoulders, and he caressed her tenderly before he withdrew and fell heavily to the bed, pulling her down with him, nestling her back against his chest. Ginny could feel his heart pounding against her spine, and brought her hand to her own heart, feeling it racing as well. Suddenly her hand was covered with his.

"Two hearts beating as one," Percival said softly, pulling her tighter against him. "I believe that is one of the definitions of Love, isn't it?"

Ginny smiled. Percival was not a wizard to give up. Now that she had experienced him she knew she was destined to stay in his bed. He was as wonderful between the sheets as outside of them. She tried to imagine him not in her life…and couldn't.

"I think I love you, Lord Percival Hornswallow the 2nd. But I'm not crazy about the way 'Ginny Hornswallow' sounds," she said softly.

Suddenly she found herself flipped over and facing the wizard as he stared at her intensely, his fingers gripping her shoulders firmly.

"Did you just say you loved me?" Percival asked her, his green eyes locked to her mouth.

Ginny looked at him evenly. Then she scowled slightly

"Yes. I also said I'm not crazy about the way the name 'Ginny Hornswallow' sounds," she reiterated.

Percival stared at her, his eyes a bit wild. She said she loved him.

Ginny sighed.

"But I'll get used to it, I guess," the witch said, smiling at him.

* * *

Hermione Snape spent a total of forty-five months out of the next six years, pregnant, bearing Severus five children, three boys and two girls.

**_Argus Jacob Snape...Severus' nose, eyes, Hermione's hair and complexion. Dark-natured.  
Sarah Minerva Snape...Severus' eyes, hair, skin color and sarcasm. Hermione's nose.  
Albus Odysseus Snape...Hermione's eyes, hair, complexion. Severus's nose and snarkiness.  
Severus Arsenius Snape, Jr...All Severus. Slightly smaller nose. Less snarky than Albus.  
Melissa Jane Snape...All Hermione. Spitting image and temperament. A bossy little know-it-all._**

All the children were home-schooled by Severus and Hermione and had been waving wands since the tender age of five, based upon Severus' claim that at five years of age a child has a basic grasp of what's right and wrong and can handle basic spells and charms. Hermione discovered Melissa adapting spells at age eight without any formal training. There were a few instances of siblings hexing each other during disagreements and turning each other into small reptiles and mammals. After a frantic search that lasted three hours, Severus found Sarah transformed into a newt, locked in a very wet terrarium underneath a very closed-mouth Albus' bed. She had eaten four crickets during her incarceration. All five children entered Hogwarts well prepared, the entire clan enrolled in the school by Argus' sixth year. Together they were a force to be reckoned with.

All the boys were sorted into Slytherin, Sarah into Ravenclaw and Melissa into Gryffindor. Not a Hufflepuff among them. The children's talents seemed to be clearly defined along the lines of sex. The boys were excellent at Potions and the girls showed great ability in Charms, Spells and Transfiguration. They all had excellent grades and were very competitive with each other, but if you messed with one Snape…you messed with them all. Any offending student was guaranteed to pay dearly.

"Don't fuck with the Snapes" became a school mantra.

Their father, Headmaster Severus Snape had no problem with showing abject favoritism toward his progeny during conflicts, though Hermione, who had full tenure as the school's Spells Mistress, tempered his favoritism and made sure the children were properly punished whenever she discovered them in the wrong. This only made them sneakier when getting revenge or wreaking havoc within the walls of Hogwarts. All of them had Slytherin tendencies, even the girls though they were sorted in different houses. This was most likely due to Severus teaching them to follow the Slytherin philosophy from an early age.

The first time Argus was caught in his sixth year shagging a very vocal seventh year Hufflepuff behind the statue of the humpbacked witch, his father deducted one hundred points from Slytherin House and assigned him a week's detention for getting caught.

"Always use a silencing spell and if necessary a disillusionment spell before the act," his father chided him, "or, if you don't have access to your wand, a hand clamped over the witch's mouth can be equally effective for short trysts. You should always be sure to cast a contraceptive spell on yourself before indulging. I would appreciate it if you didn't tell your mother about this bit of advice. She's a witch. She doesn't understand these things. A wizard must get experience," Severus told his son before dismissing him.

Later the Potions Master had quite a candid talk with his son about sex, and the finer details of possessing witches successfully, his son turning all kinds of colors as his father explained things about the female anatomy that the young wizard didn't even know existed. Severus pulled no punches with the boy as he instructed him, saying sex was as much an art as Potions, and if Argus were going to indulge in it, then he had an obligation to himself and the witch he would be shagging to be as good at it as possible. Severus gave this talk to each son when he reached his sixth year. The young wizards were quite successful in the shagging department as a result.

Severus left the sexual education of his daughters to Hermione. When Sarah approached him with a question of a sexual nature, he promptly told her to just say "no" and go ask her mother. But the Snape girls had very little to worry about in the sex department. With their very protective brothers and father, few wizards dared approach them, though Sarah was the object of quite a few young wizards' fantasies. She was tall, slender and moved with her father's feline grace, but in a more feminine mien. Her dark eyes, dark hair and alabaster complexion made her stand out and be noticed. She was a bit sharp too, and had no patience for idiots at all, and was known for dressing down wizards and witches who dared lock horns with her.

All five children graduated Hogwarts with honors, and a few years later after receiving his Potions Master's degree, Argus married a pretty, red-haired and titled young witch named Lady Molly Hornswallow.

* * *

Percival and Ginny outdid Ginny's parents, the witch producing eight children for the wealthy wizard, seven boys and one girl, two sets of twin boys among them. Three of them had the flaming red hair of the Weasley clan, and the rest sported wavy brown hair like their father. And just like Percival wanted, their family was close, boisterous and loving.

Ginny did not allow their status to go to their heads. Despite their father's wealth, the children found themselves doing chores, budgeting their allowances and doing odd jobs for extra money. Of course, Percival slipped them a few galleons when Ginny wasn't looking, but the witch was as all knowing as her mother was. Percival was allowed to give his children elaborate gifts only on birthdays, Christmas and truly special occasions. As a result, each child had his or her own Pegasus…which Ginny insisted they care for personally.

Their children started Hogwarts a couple of years after the Snapes, and initially there were quite a few clashes between them…as the Hornswallows were all as fiery tempered as Ginny was, and Molly had the same skill with the bat-bogey hex as her mother. She never hesitated to use it either. She met Argus while she was in her seventh year, when he came to Hogwarts to visit his father. He had just received his degree and was entering the Main Hall when Molly literally bumped into him, and the books she was carrying in her arms fell and scattered all over.

Argus made no attempt to help Molly pick them up, so the irritated young witch then verbally dressed the tall oaf down as he stared at her with his black eyes, his head cocked, a small smirk on his face.

"Little girl, you seem to have the need to expel some of that excess energy," he said to her silkily, arching an eyebrow at the irate witch. "How old are you?"

"Seventeen," she snapped, picking up her last book. "And I'm not a little girl. I will be eighteen next month."

Argus's eyes raked over her. She was pretty. Fiery.

"And then you will be all grown up I suppose," he said to her, studying her face.

"Yes, I will be," she said, still angry, but looking at the wizard with some interest. He was very attractive, if somewhat stiff. He was older too.

"Perhaps I will come back and find out just how grown up you are," Argus said, giving her a small sexy smile that made the witch tingle all over. Then he just walked away.

Argus had much the same effect on Molly as Severus did on Hermione back in her seventh year, though the young wizard had to come up with creative ways to enhance her attraction, since he didn't work at Hogwarts, and then, when she graduated, figure out how to keep in contact with her as she attended university. It was when she was in her second year of college that they…er…connected.

After a rather tumultuous relationship between Argus and Molly that involved a break-up and a make-up, the couple found themselves in the middle of a standoff between the Snape family and Hornswallow family that would have certainly resulted in mass destruction if both sets of parents hadn't interceded. Molly was pregnant, and her brothers were set on avenging what they considered their sister's defilement. Argus's siblings were intent on protecting their brother.

The couple had agreed to meet to discuss their situation in a discrete, private location at a local park. Their plan was discovered by both sets of siblings, who followed them. Luckily, Hermione found out about it by overhearing Albus and Sarah, and contacted Ginny. The witches and their husbands showed up as just as their children faced off, wands drawn, threats and insults flying back and forth from both sides

Hermione and Ginny were the voices of reason that ended the standoff, true love winning the day of course. Percival and Severus were no help. Both wizards were more than willing to join their children in glorious battle. But since a child was on the way, the fathers grudgingly made peace and their children were married.

Both the Snapes and the Hornswallows were contented with how their lives turned out. They had large, loving families and lived long, prosperous and happy lives. When they finally departed this world, they left behind stories, legacies and traditions that endured for generations to come.

There were many more adventures to be had by the offspring of Severus Snape and Lord Percival Hornswallow the 2nd.

But that, dear readers, is another story.

THE END

* * *

A/N: And that is the end of "You Promised It Would Be Forever." Thanks so much for reading. 


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